In My Blood
by teammaddison
Summary: When their entire life comes crashing down around them, resulting in the death of their 4 year old daughter Heavenly, will Addison and Mark be able to pull together to get through this terrible tragedy or will they fall apart, both victims to their own grief? Drama Tragedy Hurt/Comfort Rated T.
1. Chapter 0

**Title:** _In My Blood_

 **Author:** _TeamMaddison_

 **Disclaimer:** _If you are easily triggered you have been warned. This story deals with mature topics such as a mass shooting (just mentioned not in detail), the death of a child, attempted suicide, afterlife, arguing, parents dealing with the loss of their child in the best way that they know how._

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 **Hi everyone!**

 **This song was inspired heavily by the song "In My Blood" by Shawn Mendes. I am removing the lyrics from the song due to copyright (and not wanting my profile banned) but PLEASE listen to this song before reading if you've not already heard it.**

 **Thank you for taking the time to explore this story and happy reading!**


	2. Chapter 1

**Title:** _In My Blood_

 **Author:** _TeamMaddison_

 **Disclaimer:** _If you are easily triggered you have been warned. This story deals with mature topics such as a mass shooting (just mentioned not in detail), the death of a child, attempted suicide, afterlife, arguing, parents dealing with the loss of their child in the best way that they know how._

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 _ **This story jumps back and forth between Addison and Marks POV. Hopefully I've given enough detail in this story that you can read this as little flashes of their lives. I REALLY wanted to make this into a music video AU fanvid, but that's still up in the works. I wanted to do something DIFFERENT with this song, this story seemed to fit nicely. The story takes place in New York, but with some Seattle friends Addison stayed with Mark after Derek left for Seattle. This story is set 5 years after that night. I am uploading the lyrics to the song before this chapter. I am breaking the story up into several different little "mini" chapters . I feel like it is easier to keep track of POV when reading something that isn't one super long chapter.** _

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**Chapter 1:**

 ***ADDISON's POV***

I sit on the bench seat in front of the window of my brownstone apartment; my knees pulled up to my chest, head read resting on them, looking out at the passersby. How long had it been? Days? Weeks? Months? The only indicator of the time passing was the changing of seasons and the rotating plates of food I never eat that keeps appearing on the coffee table next to where I sit. Mark, he's trying his best. He is strong. I feel sad about that as I marvel at the fact that everyone else's lives continued to go on while mine, well mine halted the moment I got the phone call that she was gone. How could my life go on when the most critical person in my life ceases to exist? How can I go on when it feels like I can't even breathe? This was her favorite place in the house. She loved to invent stories about the people that passed by, who they were, where they were going, what they were doing, that sort of thing. I find myself playing that game as I sit here and my mind wanders. I am nothing without her. She was my everything. My whole existence. My reason for being. Nothing makes sense anymore.

The first time I tried to commit suicide was the night Heavenly was taken off life support. I curse myself for naming her that now. I fought with her father over the name. I won. Nothing was as beautiful and perfect than this little tiny being we had brought into the world. She was a miracle. A gift from the heavens. 'Some gifts aren't meant to be returned.' I thought miserably, my mind flashing back to that dreadful night.

We had signed the consent forms for her to be an organ donor. Friends and family were called in to say their final goodbyes. She was only four years old. It wasn't supposed to be this way. Her life was supposed to be long and happy, filled with memories of late night cuddles and trips to Disneyland for fairytale makeovers, eating popcorn at the Yankees games with her poppa and baking cookies with me. She should have been starting preschool at that place she had had her name down for since before she was born. She was supposed to be playing with her friends at the park and having adventures. NOT laying on a cold hospital bed preparing to have her organs harvested out and transferred into children around the United States. She was supposed to live a long and happy life. I promised her. He took that from her. Her childhood, her innocence, existence.

The nurse came in as her time drew nearer and asked our family and friends to step out and allow us these last few moments alone with our precious baby girl before she was taken to the OR for the harvest. I wrapped her in her favorite blanket and made sure that she had her favorite dolly in her arms. We were not allowed to hold her, due to the life support and the chance of having something disconnect unintentionally, but we laid on the bed next to her. We talked to her. We told her that everything was going to be OK. We sang her favorite songs to her.

"Mommy's so so sorry Heavenly," I whispered. I promised myself that I wouldn't cry. Promised myself that I would be strong for her until the very end. I tried my best, but in the end, I failed. Mark was the strong one. When they came to take her, there was no better explanation. I lost it.

"No! Not yet you can't take her yet!" I screamed, carefully picking Heavenly up, cautious not to disconnect anything I hold her close to my chest. I buried my face in her baby blonde hair that was every bit her fathers, breathing in the smell of her favorite strawberry body mist that still lingered in her hair despite everything. Was it only this morning that I had sprayed it on her?

"It's time Addison," Mark said gently. Our eyes locked and I could see the fear, sadness, and overwhelming strength in his.

"No! This is a mistake." I insist desperately. "She is breathing." I've lost all sense of logic, medical training, and reasoning. " I can feel her breathing!" I wasn't Addison Forbes Montgomery Ex Shepherd Sloan then. I wasn't the saver of the babies. I wasn't anything but a terrified mother sick with grief.

"Baby it's the machines. They're breathing for her. You know that. I'm sorry Addie, but she's gone. Our baby is gone. Derek and Amelia confirmed. She was gone from the moment that bullet hit her." There were tears in his eyes now, and that scared me.

"Mark please they've made a mistake." I insisted over and over again holding her closely, shielding her, refusing to let them near her. "Please don't let them take her. Mark please!" I begged, almost childishly.

"The transplant team is here. She is going to help so many." His voice was strange. Soft, cracking, like he was holding back sobs. "We have to let her go Addison. We can't save her. Not now." Something about his calm demeanor calms me and infuriates me all at the same time.

"I'm so sorry Heavenly," I whisper to her, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. "You've been so brave and so strong. Mommy loves you to heaven and back." I lean in closer to her and promise quietly. "We'll be together again soon." I was already forming a plan in my mind. Knowing that her losing her life would be the end of mine. It didn't matter that I was still breathing.

"I love you I love you I love you!" I whispered over and over as Mark took her gently from my arms. The team set to work placing her on portable life support to get her to the OR. Mark wrapped her favorite blanket around her "Stay with her. Promise me?" I demanded as he placed that little doll of hers in her arms.

"Promise." He said nodding at me as they wheeled her out of the room and I collapsed onto the floor, sounds of sorrow and grief that shouldn't even exist escaping my body. I couldn't keep the pain locked up anymore. I'm not the strong one..

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 **Thanks a bunch to everyone who has read to this point! Please as always feel free to review, ask questions, concerns ideas etc. This story is pretty much done, but now that I have taken the song lyrics out I am changing things up a bit, so it will be a bit longer/ a bit different. I want to try and stick to the following update schedule, but due to being very busy that might not always happen the way i'd like.**

 **Friday June 1**

 **Sunday June 3**

 **Tuesday June 5**

 **Thursday June 7**

 **Saturday June 9**

 **Monday June 11**

 **Wednesday June 13**

 **Friday June 15.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Title:** _In My Blood_

 **Author:** _TeamMaddison_

 **Disclaimer:** _If you are easily triggered you have been warned. This story deals with mature topics such as a mass shooting (just mentioned not in detail), the death of a child, attempted suicide, afterlife, arguing, parents dealing with the loss of their child in the best way that they know how._

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 **Since this story takes place 5 years after Derek left for Seattle the current year is 2010. I have no idea of the actual dates of the affair so I made up dates. Heavenly birthday is January 18th 2006. (January 18th because that is the day the episode aired where Addison told Callie that the baby's due date was that day.) Heavenly passed away July 2010. Current time is December 2010.**

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 **This chapter goes from Mark's POV to Addison's POV, and is a little longer than the last.**

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 _ **Chapter 2:**_

 ***Marks POV***

 **July 2010**

I can hear Addison's screams all the way down the hallway and to the elevators. I need to go to her. To help her through this unimaginable shit storm that has become our lives. I am going to go to her. I will go to her. I have every intention of going back to her, but as they take my baby girl into the elevators, the elevators that I am not allowed to be in I freeze. My mind goes back to just that morning at the breakfast table.

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*FLASHBACK*

" _I want chocolate." Heavenly had declared._

" _Eat your breakfast first," I said, looking over the top of the paper. Addison had done her hair in pig tales this morning. Something that Heavenly, despite Addison's insistence, did not look too happy about._

" _Poppa Pwease?" She had looked up at me with those eyes. So piercing. So blue. Just like her moms when she wanted something. The look that they knew I couldn't resist. They sat there at the kitchen table in a standoff of sorts for a minute._

" _Fine, but don't tell your Mommy," I said laughing as her eyes lit up and a huge smile made its way across her face. I had handed her one of Addison's expensive chocolates that she insists we keep stockpiles of in the house._

" _Thank you! You're the best Poppa ever." She said excitedly giving me the biggest chocolate covered kiss on the cheek. I hugged her and told her that she was the best princess ever, and then washed her hands and faced up so Addison wouldn't be upset with her having chocolate before breakfast._

*END FLASHBACK*

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I feel like I can't breathe.

"We'll take good care of her." Someone promises me as the elevator doors close. I turn and begin to walk. My body on auto piolet. Numb. Void of all feeling. I find myself downstairs in one of the on-call rooms in the basement. My mind screams at me that I need to find Addison, but I can't move. It's like someone has suddenly made my body weigh a thousand pounds. The tears come. Hot and heavy and in this moment, I'm stuck. I don't move for a long time. Stuck in my own form of mental anguish. Something clicks inside of me and suddenly I HAVE to find her. I can't do this. I can't be alone like this. Not now. I walk back to Heavenly's room, not knowing why, but expecting to find Addison right where I left her, screaming as her heart was breaking. When I opened the door a sense of panic filled my body as I realized that she was gone.

 ***Addison's POV***

 **July 2010**

Arizona and Amelia are next to me, holding me as I weep openly, screaming for my baby girl, for Mark, for all the unjustness of the world. They had shut the door to allow me what little privacy they could, but they wouldn't leave. I shouted every horrible thing I could think at them and still they wouldn't go. After a while the tears finally stopped and the numbness begins to sink in as I imagine what the rest of my life is going to be like without Heavenly. It's not worth it. I just can't. The operation is long. Too long. I know it doesn't matter though. At the end of the day 10 little ones would be going home with their mothers, they would have the chance of life while I will be going home with empty arms.

They are sitting, talking about something that I don't care to listen to. Fuck the saying "Montgomery's don't cry." Fuck Bizzy for coming up with that. SHE has never lost a child.

"Addison?" Amelia asks, and I look back, realizing that I had begun making my way towards the door, but I don't remember getting to my feet.

"I'm fine," I say. It's an automatic response. "I just can't be in this room... her room anymore." I grab my purse and my keys. They try to stop me, but I push past them. I mumble something about needing to find Mark. Not even caring if it was believable.

I don't go and find them though. Once I push past I head straight for the car. I sit frozen in the driver's seat before reaching under the passenger's seat and taking out a bottle of Vodka. Mark and I were supposed to go away on the weekend. He said we should be prepared. I opened the bottle and took a swig. Coughing as it burned going down my throat. I put the keys in the ignition and took another swig.

Just have a drink, and you'll feel better

'Be Brave.'

'You'll be reunited with Heavenly if you are just brave enough to end this suffering.'

Her mind started to play tricks on her. There was a long empty stretch of road just outside of town. Limited traffic up to the airport. I drove lost in my thoughts until I got to this road. Just as always there is no traffic. No one to stop me as I go faster, faster, and faster until….

"NO! MOMMY WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" I slammed on my breaks, which such force that my unseatbelted body is thrown against the steering wheel, my head smacks hard on the windshield. My car came to a stop moments before I would have gone off the road and slammed into the side of a mountain. I turn to see the source of the frantic screaming to see my little girl sitting in the back seat, buckled into her car seat.

'This isn't real.' I tell myself, turning on my emergency blinkers and pulling to the side of the road. IT couldn't be. I was just at the hospital. She was just…

"What are you doing Mommy?!" She demanded again with such force that I shutter.

"Heavenly?" I ask stupidly. "How are you here? How is this possible?" I must be having a mental breakdown, although given everything I've been through today that's no real surprise. I rub my eyes and look up at my little girl again. Tears were falling down her rosy red cheeks.

"I was told I was to stop you. That I am the only one who can. They told me it's not your time yet."

"It wasn't YOUR time yet either." I protested beginning to cry, my breathing quickening. I hate crying in front of her. I always have. I guess that comes when you are taught that it is shameful to feel your feelings and are still recovering as a middle-aged adult. I can't stop myself. "I want to be with you. I love you so much."

"It's not your time yet Mommy." She is in the front seat now. She places her tiny hand on my tummy. I know she isn't here. She can't be, but I can physically feel her pressing down. "Oakley needs you, Mommy and Poppa, too."

"How do you?" I never told anyone about the baby. I had only taken the test at work yesterday, but then the shooting happened, and the last thought on my mind was the possibility of a pregnancy.

"I just know." She said simply. "Don't be sad Mommy. I'm OK now. The bad man... He can't hurt me here. He's somewhere else." She looked down at her hands. The pink and purple polish still shining brightly from when they hand their mommy and daughter mani pedi's last week.

I sit just listening to her talk. I have always loved just listening to her. Anything and everything she had to say has always been fascinating to me. It kills me that I will never be able to hear her beautiful voice again.

"Promise me you'll NEVER do this again Mommy." I felt her hands on my cheeks as she climbed over the center console and raised my face gently up so that we were making eye contact. I let out a sob and some fresh tears. How many times had I done the same to her? I look at her, wise beyond her years. Did I expect that to change just because she wasn't earthbound anymore?

"It sounds like you're parenting me now." I joked lightly, and she giggled before turning serious again.

"Promise me!" She pushed. "You don't get to decide when you're done." She said intelligently before red white and blue lights filled the darkened car and she vanished just as a police officer and an EMT worker knocked on the window.

 ***Mark's POV***

 **December 2010**

"Get up," I demand as I walk through the brownstone door, and over to the window seat, where Addison was sitting in her normal spot in the same pajamas that I had helped her change into the night before. "Come on." She looks up at my question, and I try not to cringe. Her eyes, they look dead inside. I help her up and to the shower. I comb her hair and clean her teeth. I pick out something from the closet that looks vaguely like something she would wear. Even though she was five months pregnant, she still fit all her regular clothing. If anything her baby bump complemented her sleek apparel choices. She let me dress her with no resistance. I try to ignore the fact that aside from the baby she mostly bones.

I put her jacket on her, and my own as well and grabbed her purse before guiding her out the door.

"Where are we going?" She asked, reminding me so much of Heavenly that I wince. I smile up at her though. Trying. Hard.

"You'll see when we get there." I teased. She just glared at me with those empty eyes.

"We walk outside into the crisp winter air I hold her hand, unrealistically afraid that if I let her go, she'd disappear all over again. She had come back to me the first time. (Even if it was because Amelia was smart enough to follow her and called the police and an ambulance as well fearing for the worst.) Would she be strong enough to return a second time?

I hail a cab, and they drive us to central park. I see the panic in her eyes as she looks out to the brightly colored Christmas lights and realizes where we are.

"I don't want to be here." She said, squeezing my hand tightly. Maybe I was expecting too much of her. She hadn't left the house not even for doctors' appointments since Heavenly's funeral.

"I just want you to try. I promised Heavenly we'd come here again this year." I struggle to push back a lump that rises in my throat. When I made that promise Heavenly was supposed to be with us. I smile weakly at Addison, pay the taxi fee and help her out onto the street as we walk into central park.

The lights this year are spectacular. Just as they always were. My breath makes fog in the chilly air. I squeeze her hand, and she follows me, zombie-like. At least it's something.

"I just want you to try." She stops and sits down on a bench, pulling her coat tightly around her. I sit next to her watching the families happily gliding and twirling by on the ice skating rink in front of us. The silence was never so very loud.

"Come on Addie. You love Christmas." I try again, things would never be the same, but she couldn't stay shut up in that brownstone forever. I don't think I would survive losing her too. I watch her sitting numbly, not moving, not speaking as she stares not seeing to the ice rink. I scoot closer to her and pull her over into my arms alarmed by just how stiff she is. Unexpectedly she takes my hand and places it over her tummy.

"Oakley must love Christmas too." She said with a tiny smile as the baby kicked hard against the pressure my hand was causing. I let out a half gasp half laugh. "That she must," I say grinning. "It's going to be OK," I say gently, seeing the anxiety in her eyes, and for once I believed it.

 ***ADDISON's POV***

 **December 2010**

"I'm not giving up on you," Mark says, and I look up at him, biting my lip. He offers me some soup. I accept, taking a spoonful and then pushing the bowl away. I get up to go back to the window, but he catches me by the wrist.

"Heavenly wouldn't want this." He says bluntly breaking the ice. "It's been months Addison. She wouldn't want to see you like this." He nudges the bowl of soup back to my place and nods toward the chair for me to sit down. I don't know what makes me comply, but when he lets go of my wrist, I do.

He puts his hand on my tummy and looks up at me, eyes smiling, but shining with tears. "Oakley needs you, Addison. Heavenly is gone, but this little girl needs you…" He trails off taking my face in his hands. "I need you." He says gently kissing my lips. Everyone said go home. Find a new normal. Join a support group. Everyone said that things would get better. I don't blame them. It is what we are trained to say as medical professionals. The people who made those guidelines are full of shit though. Nothing will ever make this better. Time does not heal all wounds.

"I'm scared," I admit, almost silently, but he hears. "I'm scared, and I'm angry all the time. I miss her so much." I say, opening more than I have done at any one time since she died.

"I miss both of you." He said, and I look up. "In a way, it's like you both died. And I'm just here."

"I'm sorry Mark," I say carefully. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know… and that makes it worse" He stirred his soup around in the bowl.

"Why didn't you just leave?" I ask.

"What do you mean?"

"Why did you stay after Heavenly died?"

"You seriously have to ask?" He gets up and starts pacing the kitchen as he lists the reasons "I stayed because I love you. I stayed because I want to make our marriage work. I stayed because you need looking after. I stayed because you're the mother of my children and no matter what happens I will always love you." He grabs me and pulls me to my feet, wrapping me in his arms and we kiss. I relax in his arms, melting into his embrace.

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 **Thank you everyone for reading Chapter 2 of In My Blood! This story is an interesting change of pace for me. I love Addison and Mark so much. I am also loving my image that I made for this story's cover image. 3. I really feel that Addison and Mark could have worked things out in the show if only they would have gotten their shit together and been honest with one another. #shouldhavebeenendgame but since they weren't it's all up to fanfiction now. As always please feel free to review and let me know what you think! I love reviews.**


	4. Chapter 3

**Title:** _In My Blood_

 **Author:** _TeamMaddison_

 **Disclaimer:** _If you are easily triggered you have been warned. This story deals with mature topics such as a mass shooting (just mentioned not in detail), the death of a child, attempted suicide, afterlife, arguing, parents dealing with the loss of their child in the best way that they know how._

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 **Thank you for reading and reviewing! I Just realized that I need to edit a previous chapter to make the city they live in and timeline clearer. I will post it here as well. Seattle never happened. Addison slept with Mark. Derek left her. Addison stayed with Mark. Derek started dating Meredith. Addison never aborts Mark's baby (Heavenly) and Meredith ends up pregnant with Derek's baby (Willow) around the same time. Mark and Derek end up forgiving each other and becoming friends again. Addison and Meredith end up becoming friends. They live in Manhattan, New York.**

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 _ **Chapter 3:**_

 ***Marks POV***

 **December 2010**

I wake up and rub my eyes, looking at the time on the alarm clock. 2 am.

"Hello?" I ask groggily answering my ringing phone. Derek. What could he possibly want at this time of the morning? Honestly, I haven't spoken to him much since Heavenly passed. It was too painful hearing him speak of Willow. They were best friends. My Heavenly and his Willow. They were both four years old. Born within a week of each other. I think back to how the girls bonded Addison and Meredith's friendship. I flashed back to all the playdates and slumber parties the girls shared. Back to all the time, we had spent together, like one big family. That all stopped when Heavenly passed away.

"Mark we need to talk. It's Important." There was urgency in his tone, and I hear Willow screaming something unintelligible in the background.

"Can't this wa-" I ask in an annoyed whisper. Addison stirred beside me but fell back to sleep easily.

"She won't stop screaming." He interrupted.

"What do you want me to do?" I get up from the bed, slowly, careful not to disturb her further. She had only started sleeping in the bedroom again the night I forced her to go to Central Park with me. She had distanced herself after Heavenly's funeral and had taken to sleeping on the bench seat by the window or in the guest bedroom. Having her back was an adjustment. Not a BAD adjustment per say, but an adjustment all the same.

"I knew you'd understand. Wake Addison up for me, will you? We'll be there in 5." Derek said quickly as Willows screams turned shriller and I could make out the words 'I want my Aunt Addison!' I groaned. This was exactly like Derek. Of course, he wouldn't consider that it is rude to call on someone at two in the morning. Especially someone you've barely said two words to in months. Still, I get up and get dressed before gently attempting to wake up Addison.

"What's going on?" She mumbles but doesn't move.

"I don't know. Meredith is out of town, and Derek is having some emergency with Willow. He needs our help." I say, gently shaking her shoulder.

"It's not an emergency." She said slowly opening her eyes and stretching, pulling the covers over her head to block out the light that I had turned on. "If it were an emergency he'd go to the hospital, not our brownstone."

"She was screaming for you Addison," I say. She thinks on this a minute, and something I can't quite place registers in her eyes, but she gets up and slips her Yale hoody on over her tank top just as Derek came through the front door, carrying a still screaming Willow in his arms.

 ***ADDISON's POV***

Something about the sound of her screams cuts through the numbness that has become my life and a little sliver of the old me surfaces. When she sees me, she wiggles out of her daddy's arms, running to me. I kneel down to her level, and she hugs me tight, burying her face in my hoodie. I hug her back, stiffly, at first, but then I allow my body to relax and embrace her tiny frame.

"I'm sorry about this Addison," Derek says, and I look up at him, tears shining in his eyes. "I know it must be difficult seeing Willow after-" He trailed off looking around, his eyes fell on a picture of Heavenly and Willow on Halloween. They were obsessed with the Disney movie "The Princess and The Frog.". They had insisted on dressing up like the best friends Tiana and Charlotte. "She saved her." He sat down on the window seat, looking out at the busy New York lights.

"What are you talking about?" Mark asks…. Moving closer to Derek, but I stayed where I was, gently stroking Willows long Dark hair. So much like her fathers'. She is almost asleep in my arms when she looks up at my eyes wide.

"Heavenly saved me from the bad man." Her voice was quiet and trembling. I look from her to Derek questioningly. Panic is suddenly overtaking me at what I am about to hear.

"She's telling the truth," Derek said carefully. "We never knew exactly what happened. Today is the first day she's spoken to anyone since she lost Heavenly. We just came from the hospital. I demanded to see the surveillance footage from that day. " He looked down unable to make eye contact with me. I had gone to a sitting position on the floor under the weight of Willow. I'm not as strong as I used to be.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" I asked her carefully. She nodded but didn't say anything else, just resting on me until Mark and Derek went to the kitchen to make themselves some coffee. I almost think she's fallen asleep when she gets up and goes over to the window seat. How many hours/days / weeks had the girls spent together playing in that window? Too many to count. At some point, Meredith and I had begun thinking of ourselves as 'second mommies' to each other's girls. I sit next to her, and she cuddles close again. Pulling the blue blanket up around her. We sit like that for a while. Watching the cars go by before she speaks again.

"The bad man knew my name. "She started simply, curling as close to me as she could get. "He called me to him, but Heavenly saw his gun. She pushed me out of the way." I begin to cry, almost not believing what I was hearing. "She fell, and she wouldn't wake up. I didn't know what to do." She was whimpering now, and I find myself comforting her.

"Willow it's not your fault. You're just a little girl. There's nothing you could do baby." I try to keep my tone light, but my heart breaks and suddenly an overwhelming guilt fills me. I never called to check on her. I never stopped by. After Heavenly's death I physically couldn't force myself to make that call. I couldn't go by their house and see her. It was just too painful. I delivered this little girl. She was born in the guest room just down the hall, Derek and Mark were on an unavoidable medical conference out of town. Meredith showed up in the middle of the night, in full heavy labor and terrified. I was the first one to hold Willow as she came into this world, I cleaned her off and wrapped her in one of the receiving blankets I had bought for Heavenly. I gently placed her on her mother's chest. We spent our maternity leave together obsessing breastfeeding and baby- carriers, binge-watching Netflix on Facetime on those nights that neither of the babies would sleep. We spent the weekends together and their birthdays and celebrated milestones. They played at the park and we had trips to the zoo, they were almost always over at each other's homes. Every other weekend Mark and I would have both girls so Derek and Meredith could have some time. Then they did the same for us the other weekends. Our girls did ballet together from the time they could walk. They were BEST FRIENDS throughout the early learning program the hospital daycare provided. They did everything together. You never saw one without the other. Until that day. She is too upset to talk anymore, so I sit there cuddling her and soothing her until her eyes grow heavy once more.

"I wish I would have died too." She said her voice eerily final, as if her mind was made up just as Derek and Mark walk back into the room, I sit up straighter and move her so that she is facing me.

"Willow doesn't say that. NEVER say that." Tears are falling; my hands are shaking as I take her face and gently lift it up so that she is looking at me. "Do you understand me? I love you, and I am so thankful that the bad man didn't hurt you too." My voice trembling at the sudden thought of losing her as well too overwhelming.

"Yes, ma'am." She says dully, but I know that look in her eyes all too well, and it scared me. It's the look earned when everything you think you love in the world has been lost. The look of depression and desperation. The look of numb. I nod at her, and she rests her head on me popping her thumb in her mouth and suckling for a few moments quietly before she fell asleep.

We sit there watching her sleep before finally, I break the ice.

"How long has she been like this?"

"Since that day." Derek looked at me, saddened. "Meredith and I took her to doctors and specialists and ran every test imaginable. They all said the same thing. When faced with a traumatic event children cope in whatever way they can to try and block out the trauma."

"That's bullshit…" I said, even know I knew it wasn't. "She needs help."

"She needs you." Derek countered. "Meredith and I… we want you in our lives. In Willows life."

"What could I possibly offer Willow that you can't?"

"Hope," Derek said carefully. "She didn't only lose Willow that day. She lost you too." He walked over to us and caressed my cheek. I look up at him and took a deep breath trying to keep the tears from falling all over again.

"I'm broken, Derek. I can't help her."

"She spoke for you. For the first time in months, I was able to hear my baby's voice. Wanting you prompted her to speak for the first time in MONTHS."

"I think you need each other," Mark said quietly, and without knowing my reasonings, I agree.

"What if I screw her up?" I ask wearily. "I'm not ready. It's too soon."

"You love her like she is your own. I know, because Meredith felt the same way about Heavenly." Derek said sadly. "I know you won't hurt her."

"I've missed her," I admit smiling slightly. It felt strange, like a skill that I've lost long ago.

"I know," Derek said. "Mark's right. You need each other."

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 **Thank you for reading everyone! Please review if you have the time. I had to fit this in. I think it is important for both Willow and Addison to be able to grieve Heavenly. They both loved her fiercely. Maybe they are just the team to help each other through in ways that everyone else can't.**


	5. Authors Note

Hi everyone!

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Due to unforeseen circumstances I am removing the song lyrics from this story, including both Chapter 0 which had the lyrics in it, and the lyrics within the chapters themselves. I will still continue writing on the story, however I do not want to risk having it pulled from the site due to the song lyrics breaking terms and services. I am editing the chapters today, and will be contacting catspats31 to have my story removed from the **report able** **offense community**. Please feel free to contact me via PM if you have any questions, concerns, etc.

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Thank you for your understanding and consideration, and your continued reviews and support for this story and I am sorry in advance for any inconvenience this may have caused.


	6. Chapter 4

**Title:** _In My Blood_

 **Author:** _TeamMaddison_

 **Disclaimer:** _If you are easily triggered you have been warned. This story deals with mature topics such as a mass shooting (just mentioned not in detail), the death of a child, attempted suicide, afterlife, arguing, parents dealing with the loss of their child in the best way that they know how._

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 **I think that Addison is very damaged and her continuance to not deal with thing as well as she could is putting her in a downward spiral. She wants to believe that things can change, but at the end of the day that is just too hard for her right now. It's hard to believe in something that seems like some type of warped fairytale when it feels like you've got nothing left to give.**

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 **Chapter 4:**

 ***MARKS POV***

I wake with a start. I am not sure what woke me, and look around for a minute before I find Addison sitting at the small table beside our bed. She is holding a piece of paper with her handwriting on it. I sit up, and move towards her, not wanting to startle her, but making my presence known all the same.

"What are you doing?" I ask quietly, leaning over her shoulder, kissing her cheek. She is still, too still, like she is holding her breath. She smells sweet, like flowers and sandalwood.

"I can't do this Mark… I just can't." She said.

"What are you talking about?" I ask, and then I notice the empty pill bottles sitting on the table next to her, I can feel the blood draining from my face, and I swallow hard. Forcing myself to remain calm. "What have you done?"

"I just want it to stop." Her voice shuddered. My blood ran cold as I realized something else was out of place. She was not in her nightclothes, or even the comfortable leggings and tank tops she had taken to wearing around the house. She was wearing one of her expensive black dresses, the same one she had worn to Heavenly's funeral. She had pantyhose on, and one of the hundreds of pairs of her black shoes that seem impossibly tall for any one human to walk on. Her hair and makeup were correctly, perfectly done.

"Want what to stop?" I cautiously ask…taking out my phone and preparing to call 9-1-1.

"Everything." She responded weakly. Making a vague gesture towards the air.

"What did you take Addison?" I ask, panic running through me, the 'stay calm' approach no longer working for me. My own body too anxious. She doesn't respond and instead looks at me blankly for a second and then away. I take her by her shoulders forcing her to look at me again; she raises her eyes to meet mine once more.

"Mark?" She asks confused as my fingers press into her flesh. "Mark you're hurting me." I am inches from her now. "I need to know what you took." My voice raises, full of dread.

"Mark back off!" She protests, but I shake her, harder than I should "Please you're scaring me!" She tries again, but she doesn't fight to get away. Maybe she hasn't the strength.

"I want to hear the truth!" I demand. "What were you doing? What is that note?"

"I didn't take anything." She screams in anguish; her face crumples, I 'catch' her as she bends over, desperate her best efforts sobs take over her body as she falls into my arms. "I couldn't do it. I flushed them." Something I cannot explain makes me believe her. Maybe it was the raw emotion of defeat in her tone.

"Ok," I say. "I trust you." I find myself saying soothingly, rubbing her back as a small fraction of the panicked adrenalin left me and exhausted relief took its place. I take a deep breath. Forcing my body to calm itself, my heartbeat to slow before I speak again. "It's going to be OK, just tell me what happened, just be honest."

 ***ADDISON's POV***

"I'm- not- sorry," I say numbly trying to catch my breath. Oakley kicks and squirms frantically inside, causing my stomach to tighten painfully. I force myself to slow my breathing down, and press on my tummy, the pain passes as she calms and stops moving so much. I feel like I am going to be sick, and look up at Mark weakly. He lets me go, and I get up, moving faster than I have in months and make it to the bathroom just as the contents of my stomach makes their reappearance into the toilet. "Owe. Oakley." I mumble, she moved again this time managing to stretch her little legs up under my ribs, pushing hard. I start coughing, and Mark is in the bathroom, holding me reassuringly when it stops, and everything that will come up has come up, I lay against him, too weak, too exhausted to move.

"It's never too late Addison." He says, and I look up dully. "You can turn this around."

"Our daughter is…. dead. How am I supposed to turn that around?"

"Oakley's not though. She's still here." He puts his hand on my tummy, and she moves at his warmth. "I'm still here." He takes my hands in his own. "Willow is still here." He pulls me up further into his arms, and I close his eyes, wishing that his warmth could penetrate the icy cold numbness that has overtaken me in the time since Heavenly passed.

"When this baby is born, I need you to take her, and I need you to leave," I whisper emotionlessly. "Promise me you'll give her, her very best shot." He looks at me, his eyes reflecting the pain that made me so numb, to begin with. "I'll sign one of my bank accounts over. You won't have to worry about money." I offer. Ridiculous. A pay off really, but all I can think about is how badly I want to run, how every inch of my being is clawing at me to escape this place where the memories haunt my every waking hour.

"I'm a double board certified, brilliant surgeon. I don't want your money Addison; I want you, I want our baby. I want you to try. I want us to have an honest shot at raising this baby before you quit."

"I don't want that," I say carefully. I sit up and move away from him, resting my head on my knees, watching him. "It's too much too soon."

"Addison we can work through this." His voice is desperate.

"The way I see things is you have two choices," I say I am just so exhausted. Why does everything have to be a fight? "You can either A. Take the baby and leave or B. I will leave, and you will never see this child or me again. Either way, I'm going. You have until she's born to decide what you want to do." I say getting up slowly and walk out of the bathroom, leaving him to his thoughts.

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 **Thank you for reading chapter 4 of In My Blood! Sorry for the late update, I had to address the other issues first. Hopefully I can get back on the schedule I wanted to have and have chapter 5 posted on time. Let me know what you think : ) .**


	7. Chapter 5

**Title:** _In My Blood_

 **Author:** _TeamMaddison_

 **Disclaimer:** _If you are easily triggered you have been warned. This story deals with mature topics such as a mass shooting (just mentioned not in detail), the death of a child, attempted suicide, afterlife, arguing, parents dealing with the loss of their child in the best way that they know how._

 **I just wanted to say THANK YOU for the reviews and the reassurances! It means a lot to me that people would stand up for my creative decisions when it comes to my writing. Thank You! This chapter is Addison and Mark talking about the ultimatum that she gave him in the bathroom that night.**

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 **Chapter 5:**

 ***ADDISON's POV***

 **December**

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It takes days before Mark can look at me again after what happened. I try to keep count of exactly how many, but it turns out that I really don't care, and so that didn't last very long. Time goes slowly now. Occasionally Derek and Meredith drop off Willow to play while they work a double or whatever the case may be. It is strange having her here, but she has attached herself to me, like I'm her new security blanket. During those times I paste a smile on my face. I make sure my hair is done and I look presentable. I keep my tone cheerful, loving and sweet. We do things like bake cookies and take walks to the park. On these days I eat and behave almost like a normal human being. On these days I can almost pretend that I can feel something other than the suffocating numbness again. It's an odd thing, to say I "feel" something that literally means "deprive of feeling or responsiveness." I do though, and it is one of the deepest type of pains imaginable. As much as I love Willow I dread these days. Playing make pretend is exhausting. I promised Derek and Meredith that I would try, for Willow. I do want to try, I want her to be OK. Slowly and surely I can see the sparkle return to her eyes. She is smiling more and holding full conversations with me. Slowly she is getting better, all while I am fading away.

Derek and Meredith never see beyond the make-believe though. "I'm fine," I assure them when they drop Willow off and ask how I'm holding up. They nod, and say something that's meant to be encouraging and then leave. They want to believe in bright and shiny. They want to think that magic and fairy tales are real. They want to feel that I'm OK. They pick her up all smiles when she gives them big hugs and smiles up at them. She is happier, but she still hasn't started talking around them again yet, only to me. Trauma is a strange thing.

I have taken up residence in the window seat again. One step forwards ten steps backward. Mark sits on the bench beside me, and my body stiffens as he pulls me over effortlessly into his arms.

"We need to talk."

"Not now Mark." I move out of his embrace and sit on the opposite side of the seat. I don't want to be touched. I don't want to be comforted. I want to be left alone.

"I need to know what you're planning to do with the baby." He says directly. He takes my hand in his own. "Addison…. We have options. Once the baby's born, you'll be happier. We could do therapy, medications. We're going to be OK."

"I'm considering adoption agencies," I say. It's a lie, but he buys it so quickly I don't even have to work to make myself believe. The truth is I haven't looked up a single agency.

"Seriously? You'd give our child away?"

"I thought you'd prefer that or the option I gave you to take full custody of her vs. a late-term abortion," I said, biting my bottom lip, hating myself for even mentioning it. Dispising the bitterness that comes through in my tone, but I can't stop it. I feel a rush of shame.

"That's not legal."

"Don't test me, Mark," I warn. He knows I have connections with Dr. Melody Stiles in Colorado who performs abortions until the thirty-sixth week of pregnancy. She was one of my mentors. She trained me on the safest and most effective methods. I have no real intentions of flying to Colorado or putting the baby up for adoption. I am still clinging to the hope that he will take Oakley when the time comes. I need him to see that this is not a problem that is just going to go away if he closes his eyes and ignores it hard enough.

"You're heartless Addison. I don't even know who you are right now." He stands up angerly running his fingers through his hair in frustration and begins pacing the floor back and forth in front of me.

"I'm sorry you're hurting," I say. I can't look at him, as the truth I have been trying to push down spills out. "but I don't want to be a mother, Mark. I don't want to raise another child. I don't want to have all the anxiety and stress and heartbreak all over again. I just can't."

"So, the choice you are giving me is her or you? How is that even fair? I want you both. How could I possibly choose?" He asks. Tears are falling from his ocean blue eyes.

"I should have a choice," I say, and Oakley kicks me in the ribs as if to take her daddy's side in saying what I have to do is unfair.

"You don't get a choice, Addison." He says. He sits down again and takes my face in his hands. Eye contact. I hate eye contact. I can't be as angry or as serious when I am forced to look him in the eyes. They are like my kryptonite. "You don't get to walk away because this seems too hard. She is our daughter, and we have to work this out… together. We're Mark and Addison. We can get through this… together."

"I don't believe that," I say… bottom lip is trembling as he runs his fingers through my hair.

"That's alright. I have belief enough for both of us." Mark said, and I know he means it.

"I don't want her," I say, my voice pleading. "I don't want this life." Honestly, I am freaking out about the thought of bringing another baby into this world. What if I can't love her after what's happened with her big sister? Wouldn't she be better off without me to emotionally scar her? I think back to my relationship with Bizzy, and that makes me want to flee even further. I don't want that for Oakley.

"Give it a year. Addison give it until she is a year old. If you still don't want to make this work after you've met her, and given us an honest go as a family, I'll take her. If you still want to go, I'll sign the divorce papers after that time." His voice is matching the defeat in my expression.

"Thank you," I say, relief in my tone. So happy that this horrible life of the game make believe that I am trapped in almost finally over. I can leave. I can go somewhere where nobody knows me. I can find happiness again. Maybe one day the pain will lessen. Maybe one day I will be able to breathe again.

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 **Thank you everyone for reading chapter 5 of In My Blood! I think Mark is in a place where he is being tested at every turn, so finally he needed to push back, and challenge Addison back. Instead of just letting her push him around as much. It's a big decision and she wants out. It will take compromise.**


	8. Chapter 6

**Title:** _In My Blood_

 **Author:** _TeamMaddison_

 **Disclaimer:** _If you are easily triggered you have been warned. This story deals with mature topics such as a mass shooting (just mentioned not in detail), the death of a child, attempted suicide, afterlife, arguing, parents dealing with the loss of their child in the best way that they know how._

 _ **Thank you for all of the amazing reviews!**_

 **Chapter 5:**

 ***ADDISON's POV***

"Six times. You stuck me SIX TIMES, blew SIX veins and STILL do not have the blood you need. I tried to be more than fair. I tried to be kind. This is a teaching hospital; I tried to walk you through the steps of properly drawing a patient's blood. I tried to inform you of the proper place to get blood from me. Right now, my hands are tied, and you are wearing my tolerance thin. My suggestion is you get your supervisor before I take that butterfly needle and …."

"I'm sorry Doctor Montgomery Sloan I…. I um…." The intern cuts me off, stammering as I glare at him with distaste.

"Addison you're going to get security called," Mark warns gently, stepping between myself and the intern. "I'll do it." He turned to the intern. "You, watch and learn." Mark takes my wrist in his hand and tightly ties the rubber tourniquet around it, causing the vein in my hand to bulge. He cleaned the skin, and then in one swift motion inserted the butterfly needle. One by one he attached and filled seven different tubes. HCG testing, CBC, quad screening, blood type and cross, fasting glucose tolerance levels, etc.

"I don't care. I told you this was a bad idea." I said with a little pout, both of my wrists and my arms were beginning to bruise, and they were already beginning to hurt. "These interns, they cannot even take a blood sample properly. We were NEVER this young."

"We were once. St. Helen." He teases with a smirk. I narrow my eyes at him. He was referring to the first time I attempted to take a patient's blood during med school clinical. Not only did I hit an artery, but I also forgot to close the valve off. I turned to grab another tube. The blood started spewing out of the port; the patient started freaking out and waving her arm around. Let's say blood ended up on the ceiling.

"Oakley's fine Mark I can feel her moving… This isn't necessary." I say, as he takes a last tube of blood and removes the butterfly port. He cleans my hand with alcohol again and then puts a cotton ball to keep the bleeding stopped and wrapped it in bright red Coflex tape bandage.

"You passed out in the shower; you hit the ground hard, it's better to be safe than sorry." He kissed me on the top of the head, which hadn't completely dried yet from the shower. "We're all done." He said, with a smile, putting stickers with my name and other important information on each of the corresponding tubes. "Take these to the lab and put a rush on them." He said, bagging the now labeled tubes of blood up and handing it to the intern. He helped me to lay back on the hospital bed and prepare for the ultrasound, just as the attending OBGYN comes in with the machine.

"OK, Sloan Family! Are you ready to see this baby?" She asked cheerfully. Rubbing the clear gel on to my tummy with the ultrasound wand.

"You can stop with the cheeriness and pleasantries'," I say impatiently. My back is starting to hurt from lying flat, my head is beginning to pound, and I feel like I am going to be sick from not eating. Every single time Oakley moves this heightens that overall nauseating sensation. I turn my face to look at Mark, anywhere but the monitor as she begins to climb the wand and Oakley becomes irrationally active, squirming as if she is trying to hide from it. Mark grabs a basin just in time as I must sit up, body trembling and vomit into the bowl. Mark reaches into my purse and slips me a hard candy that's supposed to help with morning sickness. It's bitter, and when the doctor asks if I am OK to try again, I nod, apologizing. I don't know this doctor, not really. She was brought in after I quit.

"It's OK it happens, don't worry about it." She said with a compassionate smile. Her teeth are white, too white, and I can't help wondering if she whitens them or if they are just fake. She hands me a cold, wet rag and I place it over my eyes. I don't want to see. I feel Mark hand on my face, gently turning my face to him, he repositions the cloth, so it is only over my forehead. Oakley's heartbeat fills the room and tears of relief I didn't even know that I was holding in fall from my closed eyes… It sounds reasonable, healthy.

"You have to look Addison." He wipes the tears from my eyes as I shake my head 'no.' "It's OK, the baby's perfect. " He reassured me, quietly, and I force myself to open my eyes and look back up at the screen, observing as measurements were taken.

"Here's baby's face." The doctor pushed a few buttons, and a 3D image of the baby's face appeared, she saved the image and then moved on continuing her measurements.

"Oakley looks like you," I say to Mark. I feel myself smiling, and it feels strange, foreign. I realize that is true because it is genuine. I think a little of the numbness inside of me fading, just a teeny bit, but noticeable as I watch her moving around on the screen. We look at each other, and it is a moment before I realize that we are both crying.

"You always knew she'd be a girl." Mark said, nodding over at the screen where the doctor had just snapped a picture of the baby's gender and typed "It's A Girl!" on the monitor. He kisses me gently as the doctor finishes up and helps me wipe the gel from my belly.

"Everything looks OK. Her heartbeat is strong; she is very active, blood flow and oxygen levels are strong." The doctor said finally, taking a final look at the pictures she had captured, and handing me the ones she had printed out. "How many weeks did you say you were again?" She asked, double checking my chart.

"Twenty-Four," I say quietly, trying to swallow down the lump forming in my throat when I realized that meant Heavenly had been gone for twenty weeks now. It seemed like a lifetime, and just yesterday all at the same time.

"Are you certain of your date?" She pressed.

"I am," I respond. "What did you see?" and Mark places his hand on my shoulder, grounding me. I wasn't paying the closest attention when she was doing the measurements, but I did not see anything that screamed abnormal, surely my trained eye would have caught…

"The baby is…"

"Her name is Oakley." Mark reminds her.

"Oakley…" The doctor corrected herself "Is measuring about 20 weeks gestation. She looks perfect and healthy. I am positive that her delay in growth is innocent and due to lack of prenatal care and proper nutrition; however, I would like to order a non-stress test and monitor closely through the duration of the pregnancy." She said to me, and I know all too well what's coming, how many times had I given this same lecture? "As you know your low BMI places you at a heightened risk of complications." She continued, just as I knew she would. I can't help myself from grimacing when she mentions my weight though. I can't stand to look at myself in the mirror. I haven't weighed myself since my initial appointment in June until today. I was one hundred and forty-three pounds. I am currently down to one hundred and twenty-three pounds. My once healthy twenty point five BMI reduced to seventeen point six. Clinically underweight. Clinically high risk.

"I do know," I say quietly, looking down at my hands, ashamed I should have been better. I should have forced my grief away and been better, for her.

"What does this mean for Oakley? What can we do to fix this?" Mark asks pulling her attention from me and onto himself.

"Right now Oakley looks great, just small. My approach is going to be to prevent any complications before they arise. I am going to prescribe Addison a pregnancy safe appetite stimulant, and do weekly NST's to assure she stays healthy until we can get Addison back up to a healthy weight. I want her on a two thousand five hundred calories a day diet to start, and a follow-up appointment with me every two weeks. It will be hard, it's not going to be a perfect option, but my goal is to keep both Addison and Oakley safe. As her nutrition and weight stabilize her blood pressure should stabilize as well. Until then I want her on restricted activities. Nothing strenuous."

"You could have just asked me," I told Mark, rolling my eyes.

"Like you would have told me the truth?"

"I would have!" I lied unconvincingly.

"You wouldn't have." The doctor countered gently. "You know as well as I do that you'd do anything and everything to convince everyone you are fine. You may even look fine for a while, but then something happens, and you can't hide anymore. So you crumble, you hit rock bottom, and then you begin to build yourself back up and rise again. Like a phoenix from the ashes. You can do this Addison, I've seen it a hundred times, and I'm sure you have as well. It is just going to take time. ".

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 **Thank you for reading chapter 6 of In My Blood!**

 _ **School has been crazy, but I NEED to write. It is my happy place.**_

 _ **I figured it was time we got Addison to the doctor to check up on everything she has been avoiding since Heavelyn's death. I couldn't find where I calculated her due date and so I calculated it again. She would be 24 weeks.**_

 _ **July 20th- 4 weeks Aug 20th – 8 weeks Sept 20th– 12 weeks October 20th- 16 weeks November 20th- 20 weeks December 20**_ _ **th**_ _ **\- 24 weeks. January 20th- 28 weeks. February 20**_ _ **th**_ _ **-32 weeks. March 20**_ _ **th**_ _ **\- 36 weeks. April 20**_ _ **th**_ _ **\- 40 weeks.**_

 _ **I took Kate Walsh's real life weight (143lbs) and her real life height (5ft 10in) to calculate her BMI (20.5) and subtracted 20lbs from that weight (to reflect a grieving weight loss that's easy to calculate, although some I know have lost much more.) putting her at 123 and a BMI of 17.6 (underweight) and what would be high risk if a pregnancy was concerned.**_


	9. Chapter 7

**In My Blood**

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"I'm fine Mark… Stop worrying!" I snap. I stand up quickly, too quickly. My head spins and I am a little unsteady due to the newfound heaviness of the pregnancy that seemed to come within the last week. The medication I am prescribed has been working wonders as far as nutrition goes though. Slowly I am beginning to feel stronger as the nutrition I am taking in is replacing that constantly being depleted by the baby. I steady myself against the kitchen counter for a minute and then busy about the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee and washing up the breakfast dishes.

"You need to rest." Mark says forcefully.

"I promised Willow we'd bake cookies tonight for Santa. Her parents having dining reservations at Masa. They go _every year._ They booked this reservation _last_ Christmas Eve. I still must get ingredients. I forgot to go yesterday, and we're out of glitter sprinkles." I protest. I hadn't even realized that I had begun looking forward to her visiting just as much as she has. Slowly (very slowly) a little bit of light, and joy and crept in through all the darkness. My life was gradually returning to some odd resemblance of normal.

"You're bleeding." He's full of concern, and I look up at him, trying to keep my expression void of any real emotions at the horrible situation I've put myself in. Trying not to show the guilt of the terrible thing I did that is eating me alive.

' _I want you on restricted activities, nothing strenuous.'_ The doctor's instructions played repeatedly in my head. I think of how I would have given any of my patient's similar guidance under the circumstances.

Last night was anything but restrictive. It was fun. Sexy. Groundbreaking. Mind-blowing. Freeing. I felt like myself again. For the first time since Heavenly's death I could finally breathe. I knew the risks. I wasn't thinking clearly. Despite knowing as a doctor, as an OBGYN, as a neonatal specialist what the outcome might be. I played with fire. I was selfish. I was deceitful.

"It's not that bad. I'm sure it's only because we had se-" I start not wanting him to worry more, trying to figure out something, anything I can tell him that will hide what really happened. He cuts me off, and I frown at him.

"We need to take you to L&D, just to be sure."

I roll my eyes. "I'm fine and I refuse to spend the night in the hospital when there is no cause." I argue, stalling for time. He comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around me, his hands resting on my tummy. As resistant as I am to bring a child into this world after what happened to Heavenly, Mark is the complete opposite. He has wholly embraced the idea of being a father again. He loves every single little thing about our unborn child. Wants to know every single detail. It is not his intention, but this makes me feel even worse. How can he so easily move on when Heavenly was his everything? Will I ever be able to love this baby the same as I loved her sister? Will I be able to love her at all? Will Mark ever forgive me for what I've done?

"I love you both. I just want to be sure that you're OK."

"The fact that you don't believe me is insulting." I say looking up at him and narrowing my eyes, trying maybe a little two hard to be playful, distracting. He kisses my lips in response. Gently silencing me, but there is worry shining through. He lets me go, and we move away from each other. A moment flashes through his eyes where he looks like he is suddenly afraid to touch me, like I am a delicate winter flower.

"I shouldn't have pressured you." He says finally. "You weren't ready, what if I hurt her?" I cringe at this. Mind-blowing S-E-X had just about nothing to do with what was going on right now. I cringe at the hurt in his expression. Him taking the fault was in no way part of the plan. Everything is going wrong. So wrong.

"Mark, I love you. You didn't do this." _'You didn't force me into anything'_ I think silently. _'aside from being a human incubator to your child.'_ I stop myself there. That's not fair.

"So after _months and months_ of nothing you magically _want me_ again?' He accuses, and despite everything I am still not sure how he's turned this around on just me when as far as he knows we were both equally involved.

"The medication-I'm starting to feel better." I say simply, shrugging my shoulders as if this is the most logical explanation in the world. I am not usually one to be uncomfortable, but my face flushes as shame rushes through me. It would be the first time we have sex in months that I wake up in a sticky puddle of blood. Because that's…. exactly what my life is. "We didn't hurt her." I insist, but I am almost confident that that is not entirely true, we didn't hurt her. I hurt her.

"You don't even want her. How do I know you're telling the truth?" So, he Is really going to bring THIS up every time we argue? I tap my fingers on the counter impatiently, biting my bottom lip in agitation.

"Because you love me and you trust me?" I have no other reasons, and he has no reasons to trust me. He will never trust me again if he ever finds out the truth. I am a liar, but for now he is having to go on blind faith that one day I won't just have enough and do something stupid.

"Please Addison." He requests, so gentle.

"Fine." I say defeated. "Order grocery delivery from Trader Joes. The list is on the fridge." I am beginning to feel sick. "I'll-I'll just go lay down for a little while." I go upstairs, just wanting him to hush more than anything. Thankful that he at the very least allowed me to walk up the stairs on my own and didn't attempt to carry me or something else ridiculous. I don't even want to think of what it will be like when I go into labor if he's already freaking out this much. I am too pre-occupied with my own misery to realize he is just being a concerned father. He has no idea what I've done. He has no idea that there actually is cause for concern. All he knows is the lies I've fed him _. 'Everything is fine.'_

The thought reminds me of Heavenly. How she was brought into the world with soft lights and embracing voices. To positive uplifting classical music. How she was surrounded by nothing but love as I dismissed everyone from the hospital room and Mark delivered her slowly and gently into this world. How she didn't even cry at first, but instead looked up at Mark with those big baby eyes, smiled, and cooed. Mark had placed her on my chest, and from the moment I looked into her eyes plans for the future and all she would be danced around in my head. How she was so very precious and wanted. How she was the best thing that _EVER_ happened to me. How she's gone, and now Oakley is the one who's paying the price.

I curl myself into a ball on the bed as the tears and guilt overwhelm me. The dull ache in my stomach turns to cramps that come and go in waves. Likely contractions, but I don't move. I can't move. I don't know how long it's been, but after a while Mark comes and lays down next to me. I automatically curl into his warmth, resting my head on his chest.

"Are you OK?" He asked holding me close and stroking me hear back, which only makes me cry harder. I did NOTHING to deserve someone as good to me as he is.

"I will be." And then suddenly I can't go through with this. I can't keep what I've done a secret any longer. There might still be a chance to undo the damage I've caused. "I'm so sorry Mark." I whisper, and fear is starting to overcome me as the cramping worsens. "I did something really _really_ stupid and I'm so sorry. Call Meredith and Derek to cancel… We need to go to the hospital…." I can't stop crying, and he tries to soothe me, before turning me to look at him. His first line of response is always to comfort.

"What's wrong?" Mark asks, fear shows, but I can tell he is trying to remain calm. My face is deathly white as the ramifications of what I might have done hit me.

"I'm sorry." My eyes are begging, pleading. I am having a hard time catching my breath through the hysterics.

"What happened?' He asked carefully. It takes a minute, but I calm down. If we are going to the hospital he needs to know the truth. Right?

"I'm in preterm labor Mark." He goes very still, studying me closely.

"What aren't you telling me?" He asks, I didn't stop to think about the fact that he would automatically know something was wrong. I can't deal with pain well. He wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to be working tonight. I was supposed to do this alone. He had taken the day off to spend time with me.

"I stole Laminaria from the hospital last week." His expression was blank, and so I continued. "2 days ago, I inserted the Laminaria to soften my cervix and begin dilation. I ingested large quantities of blue and black cohosh which aids in uterine contractions. I feel like I'm dying Mark. Every single time she moves it _kills_ me a little more knowing that she's here and Heavenly is gone. I just wanted everything to stop." I am talking quickly now, afraid that if I don't get it out it will never be said.

"You were TRYING To induce her? Are you fucking insane?" Mark shouted getting up off the bed and pushing me off him in the process.

"Mark I'm sorry!" The words aren't good enough though and I know it.

"I should report you to the police. _YOU MAY HAVE KILLED OUR CHILD Intentionally KILLED OUR CHILD._ And all you have to say is _you're SORRY_?!"

"The Laminaria and cohosh didn't work, at first, I thought I was among the small population of women that it just doesn't work for. I wasn't dilating, wasn't cramping or bleeding, and after 24 hours my water hadn't broken. It was stupid… SO SO SO very stupid but the baby and I were fine it didn't work..."

"Until we had sex." He counters miserably.

"I checked for dilation beforehand. I was at a zero. It should have been safe."

"That's _semantics_ at this point. You're not fine and because of you _SHE's_ not fine! You knew that sex would put you into labor after a failed induction. There is no way you wouldn't have known that. Not to even mention you are barley TWENTY-FIVE WEEKS and you're trying to induce the baby. Did you seduce me into having sex with you to with the intention of killing our child?"

"Mark, I didn't!" I plead. "That was genuine. I wanted to…."

"Of course, you wanted to because you know your high risk and you knew it wasn't safe. GOD. HOW COULD I BE SO STUPID?!"

"I was afraid."

"We're all afraid Addison. That doesn't justify _attempted murder_. How long did you know?" He demanded. He grabs me by the arms and shakes me, hard. "How long did you know she could be dying before you said something?"

"This morning when I saw the blood." I hang my head in shame as he calculates the time we woke up this morning until the current time. This wasn't supposed to happen like this. I was fine. My attempt failed. I should be fine right now. Inductions fail all the time. Mothers go weeks after a failed induction before baby comes on their own, sometimes even months.

"FOUR HOURS ADDISON?!" He shouted. He lets go of me just as I attempt to pull away and I stumble backwards, tripping over something on the floor and falling to the ground. Sharp pain shoots through me, and I feel my water breaking. He goes silent when I fall. I move slowly and get up from the ground, he tries to comfort me, whisper apologies but I push him away.

"Addison!" He says my name forcefully, but I ignore him. I quickly clean myself up and change into a flowing skirt and put on a pair of disposable always discrete underpants to catch the amniotic fluid that was continuing to gush. "This isn't going away just because you're ignoring it."

"Mark…just shut up for a minute." I am trying so hard to calm myself down. I go downstairs slowly. Holding on to the siderail harder than probably needed for support. He had grabbed the bag I was throwing together and follows me. I pull my coat and purse out of the downstairs closet and put them on.

"Addison What-"

"I am going to the hospital. You can either come with me, or not, but either way I'm going. If you want this child to have any chance of survival-" I stop, moving my hand to my stomach as she kicks, Not even sure if that is possible. "just…. we need to go."

* * *

"Addison?! I didn't expect to see you back so soon what happened?" Joy asks concerned, skipping right past all the normal bedside manner pleasantries. She turns her back to move the vitals cart and move an IV pole closer to the bed.

"I-" I start to tell her what happened, but Mark gives me a warning look and slowly almost indiscreetly shakes his head 'no.' I am freezing, and a cold clammy sweat covers my body. Probably a good thing he is talking. I'm not sure I can open my mouth without vomiting. The uncontrolled pain is making me nauseous. The bands holding the sensors on my stomach are tight, too tight, and with each contraction it feels like the baby even at her delicate 25 weeks, is trying harder and harder to kick them off.

"We had sex last night. She woke up this morning bleeding and cramping. Her water broke around an hour ago." He takes my hand in his and squeezes it hard. Our eyes lock and despite my confusion at WHY I know he's not going to tell her.

"When did the fever start?" She asked, wrapping a band around my arm to take a blood sample, and then starting an IV port. She gives me medicine for nausea and another for pain.

"after my water broke." I say weakly.

"And it was a spontaneous rupture?"

"Yes."

She looks at my charts and flips through the labs of the urine test they had made me take upon arrival and the swabs they took to determine if my water had indeed broken. She gets the ultrasound machine and begins slowly looking at baby, taking measurements and then my other organs trying to determine the cause of the rupture.

"I hope you planned on staying with us for a while."

"What? Why?" I asked unthinkingly. "What do you see?" She turns the ultrasound towards me, and points. "What do you see?" She asks. Showing me the images, she had taken.

"A severe kidney infection..." I let that sink in for a minute. My act of desperation really had absolutely nothing to do with my situation. "Which likely caused my water to break." I say looking up at Mark miserably.

"Oakley's fluid is low, but that is to be expected. You're contracting every 10 minutes, but you're only dilated to a 2 and 0% effaced. Her stats are good, no signs of distress. I am going to give you steroids to mature the baby's lungs and start you on medication to stop the contractions. With any luck we can get you to at least 30 weeks." As she says this a nurse comes in and hooks the required bags to my IV.

"Everything is going to be fine Addison. We've got you." Were the last words I heard before the pain medication begins to fully kick in and everything goes dark.

* * *

I begin swimming slowly back to consciousness hours later. I feel the weight of a child up against my body. She is heavy and breathing deeply in her sleep. I move, slowly trying hard not to disturb her. I think for a moment in my drug induced state that it might be Heavenly. Surely, I am lucky enough to be dead and reunited in some new world with my baby. I put my arms around her in my sleep, embracing her.

When I wake up I realize it's not Heavenly though. I am still in the hospital and Its Willow who had curled up next to me. Gently I kiss the top of her head. I look over to see Meredith asleep on the other side of me. I smile. How many times had we spent all night in each other's beds. Our husbands kicked out when something is going on? It is a testament to our friendship that after shutting her out when Heavenly died she is here with me now. She wakes when I move.

"What time is it?" I asked, my voice horse. She checks her phone.

"Shh… 2am."

"I'm sorry for everything." I said, and I mean it. Fuck and now I'm crying again. Sorry I didn't reach out to them after Heavenly died, sorry I didn't look after Willow and make sure that she was OK sooner. Sorry I shut her out and was a terrible friend.

"You don't have to explain anything. It had been Willow…. I …" She stops talking, swallowing down the hard lump that had formed in her throat. "What happened with Oakley?" She asked quickly changing the subject. Of course, she'd want to talk about that.

"I don't know." I could give her the truth, or any variation of the truth, but in the end I go with something more vague. "I was fine…. until I wasn't anymore." I know Meredith has already logged on and read my chart. I know she would have been able to read between the lines of what was written in the chart.

"She will never replace Heavenly Addison. You're not replacing Heavenly by giving this baby life." She said soothingly.

"It sure feels that way." I say quietly.

"I know, but you'll get through this." She smiles at me, and I realize just how tightly I am holding her daughter. I move to reposition, but when I do Willow wakes up, and begins to cry until I incline the bed and allow her to lay hear head against my chest.

"Oakley is going to be OK Aunt Addison." She spoke quietly. I almost didn't hear her over the beeps and hums of the machines.

"How do you know?" I ask.

"Heavenly told me." She whispers sleepily, and without offering any further explanation falls asleep, listening to the sound of my heartbeat.

"How's your pain?" Meredith asks, checking the monitor. "You're still contracting. Can you feel that?" She asks, and I shake my head "no.".

"I'm OK." I insist.

"You don't have to be brave. It's OK to admit you're hurting."

"I deserve to feel every bit of this pain and more." I say hollowly.

"I'll get you something to ease the pain."

"I don't want anything. I just want Mark." I say, shaking my head sadly. I gently hand her Willow, and she manages to transfer her to the little couch where she has her pillow and her blanket.

"He seemed pretty mad when he left. Did you have a fight?"

"No. I'm just horrible excuse of a human being." I sigh sadly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asks.

"No."

"Ok"

"I wanted an abortion from the beginning, but Mark wants to keep the baby. I thought that it would be OK with that. I can leave once she's born. I don't have to stay. I can give him this child, it's only a few months out of the grand scheme of my life."

"But you couldn't?" She asks.

"Not anymore." I shake my head sadly. "He's mad because I started procedures to end the pregnancy, and then today I went into preterm labor." I say, purposely leaving out the part where I tried to end it at home with stolen medical supplies and strange herbs. She knows the baby is measuring behind. I could have gone to any clinic, told them I was 20 weeks instead of 25 and ended the pregnancy. "I couldn't go through with it. They sent me home with the Laminaria. I was supposed to go back for the injection to end the pregnancy, but I went into preterm labor before the next appointment. I got scared and told Mark what happened."

"Oh Addie." Meredith gasps and SHE begins to cry. She sat back down on the bed next to me and pulls me over into her arms. Maybe she feels the same guilt that I do. Maybe if we had talked to each other things wouldn't be so bad now. She held it together, but I'm shredding thinner and thinner, trying everything in my power to keep from completely falling apart. "I can't even imagine what you must have been going through to feel you had to make that decision."

"I'm just so tired Mer."

"I know sweetheart. I know."

* * *

 **AUTHORS NOTE:**

Thank you everyone for reading this newest chapter of In My Blood! I am really enjoying this Addison/ Meredith friendship. What do you think? She needs someone who loved Heavenly as much as she did to help pull her out of her grief and back into life.

.

I had Addison tell a slightly different version of events to Meredith, so that only Mark knows the full truth that could get her thrown in jail for attempted murder. (I looked it up and home abortions are illegal in NY UNLESS you're accompanied by a qualified physician. I really don't think the law would take into consideration that she's the qualified physician)

.

My heart is breaking for Mark. I think Addison is really struggling with how much he wants this child vs how much she wants nothing to do with her. It seemed kind of almost if you squint hard enough realistic that she'd eventually attempt something stupid.

.

Addison's relationship with Willow I am really starting to like as well. And what a creepy little comment right? I am going somewhere with that : ).

.

Thank you again for reading! Please review with your thoughts! It really helps me to want to update when I know people are actually reading.


	10. Chapter 8

**In My Blood:**

.

 ***ADDISON DREAMING***

" _Mommy!" 2-and-a-half-year-old Heavenly screamed "Poppa!" She ran down the hallway full force and was in our bedroom and up on the bed bouncing up and down on our before we even had a chance to sit up and fully register what was going on._

" _Heavenly come lay down by Mommy." I grab her mid bounce, tickling her as I lay her down between us. Snuggling up against her warmth._

" _But Mommy I can't go back to sleep! The sky's awake! So I'm awake! AND IT's CHRISTMAS!" she squeals full of excitement, wiggling down off the bed, she runs over to the window and pulls open the curtains, revealing the tiny, tiniest hint of sunrise imaginable._

" _Christmas doesn't start until the sky is FULLY awake Princess." Mark grumbled rolling over and falling back asleep. Heavenly frowned at him and then climbed back up on the bed, jumping, inches from him, hair flying. She bounces a final time and lands on him giggling._

" _Wake up Poppa IT'S CHRISTMAS!" She shrieks, shaking him as best as she possibly can. He pulls her over into his arms, wrapping her in a tight hug, and kissing her on her cheek. "You know I can never say no to you." He says with a smile. "OK I'm getting up."_

" _Remember when you thought she'd never talk." I joke smirking at them as I get up and start preparing for the day. Heavenly hops off the bed and dances in circles around me._

" _HE's REAL Mommy! Santa IS REAL! He ATE THE COOKIES and he left PRESENTS! And THERE ARE GLITTER FOOTPRINTS!"_

" _Someone's been sneaking out of their room again." I say trying to be firm, but it comes off more as teasingly, I'm not mad. She has been able to safely manage the stairs since before she was one._

" _I HAD to mommy. I HAD to see if he is REAL! I just HAD to know the truth!" The joy in her eyes was so pure. So sweet. Mark picks her up to carry her downstairs and she snuggles against him my heart feels like it is going to explode with joy as I lean against the doorframe, just watching them. What did I ever do to deserve to be THIS happy. I realize I am crying and Mark looks at me oddly._

" _Are you alright?"_

" _I'm just so happy." I wipe the tears from my eyes and try to stop them, but they won't. So, I try to explain. "I have everything, EVERYTHING. I don't know what I ever did to deserve this, but It must have been something good. I love you both so so so much!"_

 ***END OF DREAM***

"Oweeeee!" I moan as I begin wake up and to come back to awareness. I feel the most agonizing pain in existence. Different possibilities go through my mind trying to think of what it could be, but whatever they gave me is not completely out of my system. My mind is foggy. I look around, half expecting to see Heavenly and Mark, but the realization of it just being a dream begins to sink in and I struggle to go back to sleep, back to them.

"Addison your contractions were strengthening in intensity and duration while you slept." Someone says. I wake up more and realize it was Meredith, she pulled the paper out of the monitor and was looking at it, I bit my lip, remembering that I am the one who taught her to read an ultrasound when she was pregnant with Willow. It's not something you learn much of in General. "They are slowing back down now, every 7 minutes."

"Where's Mark?" I ask weakly. "I need Mark." I feel like I have been over by a train. How much had this progressed while I was sleeping? Why hadn't they stopped the labor yet? "Why aren't they doing anything to stop the labor?" I demanded, finding my voice.

"Your body is having a harder time responding to intervention due to the infection. Your fever spiked again. You're currently down to 102 after meds" She wets a rag with cool water and places it on my forehead. I give her a small, grateful grimace.

"You have to get Joy to do an _emergent cerclage."_

 _"She would never. The infection risk alone…." She starts but is thrown off as another contraction comes and I shift uncomfortably, closing my eyes and biting my lip hard to keep from screaming out._

 _"Please Meredith you have…." A nurse comes in and attempts to give me more medication, I stop her before she can inject into the IV port._

 _"I said NO pain meds." I give her the death glare. "Who authorized this? I should sue you and this_ _entire_ _wing of this hospital."_

"You're not competent to make those decisions and your husband authorized the medication."

"First of all, your bedside manner…. is _shit…_ you shouldn't even be allowed to talk to patients. Secondly, I am just as competent as any other mother in preterm labor. Suppose we take all their rights as well? I am more knowledgeable and trained than any of the staff on this floor. That alone should make me competent enough to decide if I want my body filled with toxic chemicals that will cross the placenta and affect hers." I look at the vial of medication in her hand. _'Fentanyl'_. "Furthermore, if you had bothered to do ANY amount of research you would know that Fentanyl is extremely dangerous to use during labor especially in babies who are going to be born preterm because the risks of neonatal abstinence syndrome. So not only could you have killed me, you could have killed my baby who is ALREADY going to be having a hard-enough time as it is." I say exclaim angrily.

"I'm sorry Addison I didn't know, or I would have…." Meredith interjects, but I know that she wouldn't have had anymore say than I currently have.

"It's not _your_ job to know, _you're_ not on the GYNE squad dealing with high risk pregnant patients. It's _her_ job to know the medications that she is injecting into the moms and the risks that they carry, especially when those risks could be deadly."

The nurse throws her hands up angrily mumbling something about going to find Mark and 'just doing my job.' I turn to Meredith, and as strong as I was to the nurse I am the complete opposite and break down once she leaves the room _another_ contraction and I hold onto the rails of the bed so hard my knuckles go white, I hold my breath, because breathing just makes it hurt more despite knowing that this could cause the baby's heart rate to dip. I don't scream though.

"That was a bad one." Meredith mentions, checking.

"I'm fine." I say through gritted teeth, my body tense, unable to relax as it prepares for the next contraction, even though it won't happen again for... I look up at the clock…. 6 minutes more minutes of _'peace'_.

"I need Mark." Was all I could manage to say before the tears of frustration came. "I should have never given him medical power of attorney."

"It was the best thing for _you_ at the time." Meredith says simply.

"I was fine."

"You were scary. You were almost dead. Stop saying you're _fine_. You're not ' _fine_.' no one is ' _fine_ ' Addison." She raises her voice and puts emphasis on each of the words 'fine.' I stopped. Momentarily shocked.

' _Great now she' upset too.'_

"I'm sorry Meredith, but you just don't know what it's -"

"I was there." She blurted out, and I look at her confused.

"What?"

"She helped me take care of you after Heavenly died." Mark said, walking into the room and standing at the foot of my bed.

"Why can't I remember?" Everything from after Heavenly's funeral is like a swirled jumbled mess in my head. It's like I was in a Coma, and suddenly I wake up and It's December.

"The medication they had you on was too strong. They swore it was best for the baby, but I made them take you off it after Thanksgiving, It wasn't what was best for you. It took about 2 weeks to clear your system." He says, so matter of fact, no nonsense. I can tell he is still angry with me, and rightly so.

Meredith takes my hand and squeezes hard. "Once you started gaining awareness I stopped coming over. It wasn't intentional, but you were having a hard time being around me knowing that Willow is still here while Heavenly… isn't. I felt like by being there just because I love you and wanted you to be OK was just making things worse."

"I don't remember any of that." Distress is starting to show through in my tone. How do you just loose six months of your life?

"I know…" Meredith says, sitting down next to me, and pulling me into a hug. "I know and I'm so … so … sorry."

I suck in my breath. I squeeze her hand tighter. Trying hard not to cry out, but it is impossible. The pain must register on my face because there is a moment of worry on Mark's before it goes and is replaced with annoyance.

"Are you happy now? Is this what you wanted?" Mark shook his head at me before turning to Meredith. "How is she doing?"

"Contractions every 7 minutes, lasting 45 seconds to a minute each. She was dilated to 3 at the last check but has not progressed any further. They've given Tocolytic's, the magnesium drip, Corticosteroid to mature the baby's lungs, and a broad spectrum antibiotic drip to combat the kidney infection." She points to the different bags hanging from the IV Pole, attached and flowing into my veins.

"I need a _emergent cerclage. It's too early… she's not ready yet."_

 _"Not a chance. Addison. The infection you have is too great." Joy says walking into the room. Seriously. Does anyone around here even knock?_

 _"What's_ the benefits of a cerclage?" Mark asked, turning to Joy who had positioned herself at the end of the bed, helping Addison move down for a check."

"She would sew my cervix shut. I would remain on strict hospital bedrest, with tocolytics for the remainder of the pregnancy but the baby would have a chance of making it to 30 weeks, maybe longer."

"The material mortality rate is 30 percent Addison, that jumps to 45% if the mother has an infection. You know this, and it's too risky." She says, pursing her lips.

I scoot down to the proper position on the bed and try to remain as still as possible while she checks for progress, which is difficult.

"The bleeding hasn't stopped completely, but it's slowed down."

" No kidding." I say crossly. Another contraction. Meredith mumbles something to mark like _'7 minutes right on the dot.'_ but 7 minutes seems closer and closer.

"I am going to give you blood to replace the blood you've lost." She gives the order through her phone to I'm assuming one of her interns. She gets the ultrasound machine and looks again, carefully. "Have you ever been told you have an incompetent cervix?"

"No is that what you see?" I ask, a little shocked maybe, but not even bothering to look at the screen. I am trying so hard, too hard to focus on breathing, on working through the pain in some way other than screaming. I can't scream. I deserve this for what I did to Mark. This is my fault, even if it isn't.

"Look…. Right there." Meredith says, she had spotted something that Joy had missed. "No…" She instructs when Joy moves the wand. "Go back." She lets go of my hand and moves closer to the screen, looking carefully. "It's small but it's there."

"What's there?" I ask becoming annoyed.

"You have a tear in your cervix" She points out, pointing to a small laceration, that is slowly bleeding, it looks like it is trying to clot and repair itself. If your cervix truly is incompetent, which it looks like it is from the ultrasound baby's weight pressing down in addition to slamming cervix during sex likely caused the tear and the bleeding. I'd bet my medical degree that if you get blood products in addition to surgery to repair the cervix and the cerclage the contractions will stop completely."

"That's a good catch Dr. Grey-Shepherd." Joy acknowledges and takes to measuring the rupture, as a nurse comes in and hooks up the blood up and starts the transfusion.

"Slamming the cervix? Really Mer?"

"Oh don't act like you haven't talked to me about your sex life." She retorts playfully, but serious all combined. "Stop the bleed, sew the cervix, save the baby."

"Why didn't you go into OB with me?" I ask, smiling weakly, trying to joke. "You would have been great." _Fuck_. that was not 7 minutes. There is _no way_ that was 7 minutes. Tears fall, I try to move to reposition, but blood gushes and the other three doctors in the room quickly reposition me.

"Ok. Addison the tear is trying to heal itself, but your contractions are strengthening and every time you have a contraction and move you are ripping the tear back open, and the forceful re-opening is what is causing the blood to gush." Joy said, thankful that she just caught that on the ultrasound.

"I need some time alone with Mark." I say almost forcefully as Joy finishes up her exam and wipes the gel off her.

"You need emergency surgery to repair the laceration." Meredith argues.

"It is not going to be any more emergent in 5 minutes as it is now." I reply, "And Joy has to figure out how to do a cervical laceration repair and a _cerclage without rupturing my uterus and causing me to bleed out on the table. SO… I need five minutes."_

 _The other doctors agree reluctantly and leave the room, Mark sits down on the bed next to me, taking my hand in his own._

 _"Do you love me?" I ask he looks up at me, a complex of emotions on his face._

 _"You know I do Addison."_

 _"Do you want this baby?"_

 _"More than anything."_

 _"You HAVE to sign off on the repair and the cerclage."_

 _"I can't! You could_ _die_ _! The_ _mortality_ _rate is too high."_ He squeezes my hand, he is crying, and I don't know what to say to comfort him.

"I'm not going to die." I offer finally, trying to sound confident. "But if you don't agree to the cerclage she will. She's not strong enough."

"How am I supposed to choose?"

"You listen to me. You choose her, and you trust me. I will be fine." I am not being noble. I just really don't care anymore, and I want the pain to stop. I can't do this. He wants me to be strong and I can't. I'm not strong. I'm not brave. I'm just me.

Contraction, and I can't help but scream out this time. "Mark I need you…." I whimper as it comes to an end. I can't keep doing this. Eventually the cervical change with be too great and it will be too late to do anything to keep her inside.

"What do you want me to do?" He asks, in the way that guys do when they know that you're in pain and don't want to end up touching in the wrong place and getting punched in the face.

"Save her and hold me." I say, wearily and to my surprise he nods and climbs up into the bed with me, letting me rest against him,

"I can't choose between you." He talks softly into my ear. "I love you both."

"Please." I beg him. I cannot stand to think of what he will do in the even that this baby doesn't make it. He has always loved her, always wanted her. "It's her only chance."

"Promise me you're not going to die. I can't raise this baby alone Addison. I need you." More than you'll ever know, he thinks gently wiping the tears from my eyes.

"I'll be fine Mark. I promise." I say, knowing there is no guarantees, but if this is what brings him comfort, this is what needs to happen.

"I still love you Addison. I'm not going to stop loving you just because we see things differently." He says, wrapping me in his arms. "We're going to be OK."

 ***Flashback***

 **2 Days After Heavenly's Death:**

 **MARK's POV:**

 _I walk into the bathroom and my jaw drops._

" _What- are – you – doing?" I ask Addison gently, looking at the scene before me. She is sitting on the edge of the bathtub with her knees pulled up onto her chest on the edge of the bathtub, crying so hard she was almost hyperventilating. I instantly scoop her up into my arms, looking into the bathtub, to see what looks like at least a hundred or more pregnancy tests completely covering the bottom._

 _I sit down on the floor leaning against the wall, and rubbing her back, trying to help her calm down. I remind her to breathe, and she does, eventually._

" _I'm sorry." Is all she can say between breaths._

" _What's going on?" I ask her, trying to remain sympathetic, to her emotional outpour. I knew what was going on though. 2 pink lines. A smiley face. A blue plus sign, and the words "Pregnant." How many different brands of tests had she taken? How many HOURS did this take? No wonder she was upset. We haven't even put Heavenly to rest yet and she gets this news._

" _I'm pregnant. "She said automatically, as soon as she could speak again, and I felt my heart in my throat. "You weren't supposed to find out like this." She says gesturing to the bathtub littered with pregnancy tests._

 _I approach her carefully with the next question. "Just how many tests did you take?" I ask, looking at the sticks in the bathtub. All very obviously positive._

" _295? 300 maybe? I don't know I lost count." She said miserably._

" _Where did you even get that many tests?"_

" _We have Amazon Prime."_

" _So, you bought 300 pregnancy tests?" I ask, because who does that? She looks so damn miserable, but I can't help it. "Were you expecting the answer to change?" I ask, and I can't suppress a smile at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. She is a world class double board certified OBGYN who has access to all kinds of medical testing at the hospital, and she still went out and bought 300 pregnancy tests on Amazon to confirm this pregnancy. I can't decide if it's ironic or just sad._

" _What are we going to do?" I ask, and she rests her head in my lap, I wipe her hair out of her eyes, they are cloudy with tears, and full of emotional pain. I feel bad about teasing her, of course, this wouldn't be easy._

" _I want an abortion." She says dully, and my stomach drops. I feel suddenly sick. She couldn't be serious right? They had been talking about having a baby and giving Heavenly a sibling to grow up with. She had been ecstatic at the thought of adding to our little family. Now everything's changed._

" _You can't." I say automatically._

" _Of course, I can." And then "Why?" She challenges._

" _This baby could be a sign from Heavenly that she is OK? That she wants us to be able to move on even though she can't be with us?" I offer but I am stuck. It is her body her choice. Of course, it is, she should get her say, but shouldn't fathers have a say too? We JUST lost our daughter, and now she wants to voluntarily end the life our second child? How is it possible that she wants nothing more than to get rid of this baby when all I want to do is hold it tight and protect it from the world._

" _I will never move on. Our daughter is dead. There is no moving on from that." She says with such finality that I don't know what to say for a moment, so I just hold her._

" _You're not alone. You won't do this alone." I said, trying to offer her something, anything she can hold onto that would make her want to keep the baby._

" _That's easier said than implemented. You're not the one with a parasite attached to your insides." I cringe when she calls it a parasite. I know she is feeling bad, so am I, but this baby could be a blessing._

" _What do you think Heavenly would have wanted?" I ask gently._

" _She wants me to have the baby." Addison says, and I am thrown by the fact that she used the word 'wants' instead of the past tense 'wanted.'. I don't say anything though, thinking maybe it is just grief._

" _We could do it for Heavenly then, a way to honor her memory."_

" _Most people buy a house plant, not have a baby." She moves so suddenly then that I am worried maybe she'll stumble and hurt herself, but she makes her way to the toilet, and starts violently throwing up._

" _So we'll be eccentrics." I say. I wet a rag and gently wipe her head and pull her hair back into a pony tail. "We're going to be alright." I promise._

 _She looks up at me then, her eyes have gone dark, like they always do when she's unwell. "You'll be fine." She said catching her breath. "I won't make it out of this pregnancy alive." She predicts, and I get goosebumps, my entire body suddenly cold._

 _ **.*END FLASHBACK***_

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **Authors Note:**_

Thank you so much to everyone who is continuing to read "In My Blood" and to all the amazing reviewers! I love the reviews it makes me happy to know that there are people following this story and enjoying it.

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I wanted to do something cutesy with Heavenly. More of that to come in future chapters… isn't she the cutest toddler? I love how chatty she is.

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I felt like I needed some sort of back story with Addison where she specifically said she didn't want the baby, because without this flashback she just looks like she's losing her mind. It felt more natural for her to have not wanted the baby from as close to the beginning as possible. Especially considering she only truly knew she was pregnant a day before Heavenly passed away. The flashback happens 2 days after Heavenly passed away.

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I LOVE the relationship between Addison and Meredith in this story! I defiantly want to develop that back story more.

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Thank you again! Please as always feel free to comment, review, etc. 😊


	11. Chapter 9

**In My Blood:**

 **Chapter 9:**

 **ADDISON's POV:**

.

"Is she OK?" My words are slurred. I am waking up groggy in the ice-cold hospital room. My eyes are swimming from the drugs they used to sedate me, but I can make out Marks form sitting on the chair next to my bed. He is slouched forward and even without being able to see clearly, I can tell he has been crying. I try to reach my hand out to his, but I am still too heavy, still so tired.

"Addison?" He asks, turning his head towards me, but the medicine pulls me under again. I close my eyes and he takes my hand in his own. When I open my eyes again sometime later he is still there, sitting beside me, holding my hand. I can see him. His eyes are red and swollen. His face is moist.

"What happened?" I ask, almost scared to know the answer.

"You're ok.…" Mark's tone is careful, deliberate.

"But?" Mark doesn't say anything, and I persist. "What happened?" I sit up slightly looking around the room. Looking at all the various machines attached, seeing if I could figure out what he's not telling me. Wires connected to a heart rate monitor. A pulse ox. An IV of antibiotics and fluids. A life support breathing machine. Wait. What? The risks were high, but the procedure should have been straight forward. I begin to panic setting off the machines. I stupidly moved my hand to my mouth, as if feeling for the tube. Not thinking that if I had the breathing tube in still I wouldn't have been able to talk. They must have extubated the tube before I fully came to.

"It's OK Addison." A quiet voice. Meredith. I was so focused on Mark that I hadn't noticed her, sitting on the couch by the window, looking out. "Just try and breathe." She comes over and moves the oxygen mask back down over my face. The look of fear and confusion on my face must have been great because she continued:

"There were complications. You started bleeding out and coded twice on the operating table. The first time for 15 minutes, the second for 25 minutes. Your body just wasn't strong enough for the operation." She looks tired, strained, there are dark circles under her eyes. "You've been in a medically induced coma for five weeks." Tears are forming in her eyes.

"Is the baby OK?" I demand, they look at each other but not at me, knowing I would never have approved of something so dangerous for Oakley, even if admittedly I am having a hard time coping with the thought of another baby. I would have wanted all other options explored first. All sort of thoughts began racing through my head. A Coma? Medically induced, yeah, but still. Frustration begins to surge through me. There haven't been enough studies done on pregnant mothers in comas. How does it affect fetal development overall? How would being down for so long, even with CPR, and the ventilator? How would it affect the baby's brain development? I am not thinking clearly. My mind is jumbled. The risks far outweigh the benefits. I am confused, trying to piece things together.

"We don't know how the trauma your body has been through has affected her developmentally," Mark says echoing my thoughts. He climbs on the bed next to me laying on his side and gently places his hands on my tummy, singing some little melody I've never heard before. Oakley begins to move, and I close my eyes, trying to ignore the sensation of fear surging through me. I place my hand near him as she presses out her little foot against it. "You were able to keep her in for 30 weeks Red, this is a huge accomplishment. You're in the home stretch now."

I bite down on my lip hard, the memories from the days before I got sick come flooding back to me. I'm not sure how I feel about this news. I know, I know. I agreed to carry the baby to term. I agreed to get my shit together. I don't know how to feel hearing this news. I feel a surge of guilt because I can't help but feel used. Was I placed into the medically induced coma because it was the best thing for ME or was I placed into the coma because it was the best thing for the baby? I can almost imagine how things went down. Joy would have told Mark that there have been complications. Mark would have pleaded with her to do everything she could to save both me and the baby and now I'm here. As I said, I'm conflicted. I should just feel grateful that I am alive, but I can't this is all too overwhelming.

"I just need to rest." I say quietly. I need to rest and then I will be able to pretend like everything is OK again. How is it possible that I just spent five weeks, roughly 840 hours asleep, and still feel positively exhausted?

Meredith nods, asking if I want meds. I shake my head no and snuggle into Marks warmth. I will just deny this. At this moment I will ignore this. I will lay next to Mark and pretend we are somewhere else, anywhere else. I will put on a smile and pretend I am OK. I will make it through the day, whether I want to or not. I will make it through another day.

 **Authors Note:**

Thank you to everyone new reading In My Blood as well as to everyone who has continued to read In My Blood after all this time. I'm sorry I have not been updating regularly, unfortunately real life comes first.

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I re-read everything that I had written previous to this chapter, and I feel like we're seeing a lot of Addison saying "yes" to things she doesn't really want or agreeing to do things she doesn't want to do. (Example, she does not want to be a mother, she does not want to raise the baby, but Mark does so she is going along with it.). I think her anxiety and depression are causing a lot of big feelings for her that she doesn't always know how to deal with appropriately. Her first instinct is to be impulsive and destructive, but that's not always the right decision. Just a little quick update. The next one will be longer. 3


	12. Chapter 10

**In My Blood**

Chapter 10:

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 **Addison's POV:**

Everyone wants me to be strong. They want me to be the vibrant, funny, sassy, over the top, compassionate, friendly, _alive_ woman that I once was. I don't know how to be this person anymore. I don't know if the person that they know was ever really me or if the real me is showing through now that I have no reason to hide myself anymore. The designer handbags and fashionable clothes, were they ever who I was or is it just my mother and the way I was raised? Is my 5-million-dollar home really an asset now that I have no one to share it with? Was my 'happiness' ever genuine or was I putting on a mask to hide who I really am? I was raised from a very early age never to show emotion. Those rules are breaking away in my old age.

' _You could be happy though'_ The thought starts creeping into my mind and I want to scream.

' _You still have Oakley, and Willow.'_

' _How would Willow feel if she lost you too?'_

' _You have to stop this, for them.'_

I think about Willow a lot these days. How I let her down. She's started talking with one of the grief counselors. Apparently, she speaks of Heavenly a lot, and is mad at me because I _'tried to go be with Heavenly and she couldn't.'_ Meredith is heartbroken and hurting. She doesn't know how to deal with her daughters' grief. She hasn't said anything, or even acted any negative way, but I know she blames me. Who wouldn't blame me?

' _It was a kidney infection gone too far.'_

' _It was a freak complication during surgery.'_

' _What I did had nothing to do with what happened.'_

' _This is not my fault.'_

I try and psyche myself out, try to make myself believe that I truly had nothing to do with my situation but in the end, I know good and well it is my fault. I never wanted her. I drank a liter of vodka knowing I was pregnant and nearly totaled my car. I wished ill upon her. I spent days sitting in the window of the brownstone praying that I miscarry. I was on heavy levels of tranquilizers, anti-anxiety and anti-depression medications, that are known to pose risk during pregnancy. I restricted my caloric intake to practically nothing. I fell in the shower. I tried to induce preterm labor. I had wild sex. I was too caught up in myself to recognize the signs of a kidney infection. I ignored the pain and bleeding. I delayed a trip to the hospital. I lost over half my blood during surgery. I was in a coma for five weeks.

Yet somehow, I am still alive. Somehow, she is still alive.

"How are you feeling today?" Meredith asks walking in after a quick knock at the door.

"How's Willow?" I look up at Meredith, almost hopeful.

"Level one avoidance. Answering a question with a question." Meredith almost teases. I study her for a minute. Trying to figure out what's different, but I can't. It's been a few days, maybe she is just better rested?

"My stats are fine; the baby's stats are fine. The cerclage is some sort of a miracle since it was placed against all recommendations and I'm not dead _yet_." I say dully.

"The heavy-duty antibiotics cleared the infection, and the Oakley's water sack just had a tear, it was able to heal itself once the infection started clearing. You were lucky." Meredith shrugs her shoulders, she is one who seems to have a scientific explanation for everything.

"Ok so I can go home, now right? There is no reason for me to be here."

"ha ha a very funny." She says facetiously, but when she see's the look on my face her whole demeanor turns serious. "Addie what's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm fine." I say automatically, but she knows better than this. I can feel my face getting red, and a lump forming in my throat. Damn it. I can't even get angry now without crying. I bring my hands to my face, resting my face in them and taking a deep breath.

"You're not fine. You're about to cry. Now spill." Meredith sits down beside me, but I move over. I don't want anyone touching me.

"I need to go home." Simple. Straight to the point.

"You need to stay here. You're not strong enough to go home just yet." She objects, her tone is gentle, and her eyes pitying. This makes me angry. I know it shouldn't. I can't help it though.

"Meredith I'm pregnant I'm _not_ dying." My heart is beginning to race.

"You almost _died_ twice."

"But I _didn't_ …...I'm still here. I would have never kept my patients here this long."

"You _just_ woke up from a coma 3 days ago."

"Medically induced." I counter, as if that really made that big of a difference.

"Why are you so insistent on going home?" She's beginning to get annoyed now, but I don't care that I am making her feel this way. I don't care about anything anymore.

"I have to get out of here." I say shaking my head. "I can't breathe in here. It's like the walls are closing in on me." My breathing is faster now anxiety getting the best of me. I try to slow it down, but I can't. I don't want the oxygen again.

"I can get you some medicine, I can help you stay more comfortable." She offered, but I shake my head, my eyes stinging with tears now.

"I don't _want_ more medicine. I _want_ to go home."

"Heavenly wouldn't want _this_ Addison. _"_

"You have _no clue_ what Heavenly would have wanted. I'm her mother, not you!" I exclaim, my voice breaking. She has no right to assume what my daughter would have wanted.

"Addison, I understand you're hurting, and I didn't mean it like that…. It's just…. I love you and I love Heavenly, I want to help you. It kills me to see you like this."

"You don't understand. There is no way possible you could understand. YOU still have your kid. YOUR kid didn't die here." Meredith looks shocked, and I can tell she is speechless, because she just looks at me, a mix between sadness and disappointment, shaking her head. She opens her mouth like she is going to say something but changes her mind and remains silent. I am too upset to care that I hurt her, and as she leaves slamming the door behind her anger is the first thing I feel, not guilt.

I get up slowly and look around the room. I am still unsteady on my feet. I look down at the orange band on my wrist. _"Fall Risk"_ I am not supposed to be up without assistance. I crouch down carefully unwinding the cord to the IV machine, so I can move around the room without setting off the alarms. I am not even sure what I am looking for. I pace the room, anxiety, and numbness building with each time. I walk to the bathroom, I look in the mirror and see my tear stained face. I don't even recognize myself. My hair is messy, I'm not wearing any make-up. My face is thin, and hollow. My eyes dark. I _look_ sick. I don't know what makes me do it, but I make a fist, pull it back and punch the mirror repeatedly. I've lost myself. I will never be the woman I once was. A shred of glass falls into the sink I move backwards, starring at it almost questioningly.

I pick up the glass and a wave of guilt washes over me as I think of what I said to Meredith. I am getting dizzy. I sink down into the corner of the shower, pull my knees up, as close as I can get with the baby bump and rest my head on them as the tears come. I run my fingers over the smooth part of the glass shard holding it, gently running it along my wrist, not pressing down, just testing the waters. I am trembling. I don't want this. This isn't who I am. Who am I?

I black out for a moment. I can see her running along the beach. So excited as she runs through the waves and picks up seashells.

" _Look at me Mommy!" She calls, and I look up smiling._

" _I see you! I do!" I say, as I get my phone out to take a picture. She is in that cute little Gymboree two piece with a matching hat and sunglasses. She had plopped herself down in the sand and started building a sandcastle. Carefully lining her seashells up in the sand so she can choose the ones she wants to use for the pathway, windows, and door._

" _Mommy come play!"_

I am crying harder now. I just want this to be over. I just want to be with her. My mind is racing a million times a minute and without thinking I take the glass and press down hard. A rush of relief spills out along with the red blood. I drag the glass further and the blood flows down my wrist, staining my hospital gown. It looked beautiful, almost like a painting.

" _Mommy, where are you?"_ I hear her, and I look around, shaking my head hard the lines between fantasy and reality are becoming blurred. Was she here? Was she just hiding? My vision is tunneling as the door opens. I am dizzy, and I feel like I am going to be sick. I just want to sleep. Please just let me sleep.

"I'm here." I say, but my voice is weak. I am not sure if I said something or if I just imagined saying something. The world goes black, but I can still feel someone putting their warm hands on my face, checking my pulse on my neck, I can hear them calling my name, but I can't respond. People always say you see a bright light or whatever, but maybe they're wrong. Maybe this is what it's really like in the moments before your soul is freed.

 **Meredith's POV:**

I only made it as far as the supply closet before completely breaking down. Derek saw me coming out of Addison's hospital room and followed me, sitting down beside me on the cold floor.

"Mer what happened"

"I - - She - I don- I don't want-" He hands me a bag and I take slow deep breaths, trying to control my breathing. He pulls me close to him and wipes the tears from my cheeks.

"It's OK." He soothes over and over until my breathing is calmed and I can speak again. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

" _She's_ going to die, and she's too caught up in her misery to see it." I finally manage to get out.

"We've already lost Heavenly, and now you're scared you're going to lose Addison too." He clarifies, and I nod.

"I feel like I'm losing my best friend. Did she not realize how much we loved Heavenly too? Did she not realize that Heavenly was just as much a part of our family as Willow was to hers?"

"Addison says things she doesn't mean when she's hurting." He replied simply.

"So, you're defending her?"

"I'm showing her grace. She needs help Meredith."

I don't like it, but I agree with him, our eyes lock, and he kisses me gently before I stand up.

"I'll go talk to her." I say, I'm not ready. I want to leave. I don't know how much I have to give. I know I can't though. She's my best friend, and she is spiraling out of control.

I dry my eyes and walk back to Addison's room.

"Addison I'm sorry, if it had been Willow, I would have needed more time too." I start talking when I open the door and am already talking when I enter her room, expecting to see her laying on the bed, but she's not.

"Addison?" I call. I turn to the bathroom and knock on the door. "Addison are you in there?" I give her a minute, but when she doesn't respond I open the door to see her

"oh my god." I whisper. I take one look at her and quickly push the emergency button beside the toilet. Alarms start going off and I kneel next to her, taking her head in my hands, her skin is cold and clammy. How long was I gone? It couldn't have been more than 20 minutes. Her pulse is weak. I examine her wrist, clean cut, it doesn't look like she's cut any major arteries, but she's bleeding, too much, too fast. I grab a towel, folding it in half and wrapping it around her wrist and hold tight.

"We need some help in here!" I yell when no one responds within the first 30 seconds to the alarm. I have her blood all over me. Her complexion is fading more by the minute.

"Addison…." I pat her face, a little rougher than necessary, trying to get her attention, "Addison can you hear me?" No response.

The bleeding seems to be slowing down now, though it's completely soaked through the first towel. I fold the second in half and wrap it around as well as tight as I possibly can, being sure to apply pressure to the wound. At some point she had pulled out her IV's. I don't replace them, fearing that taking pressure off her wrist would cause the cut to start gushing blood again. I move her arm up, keeping it elevated above her heart.

"It's OK Addison I've got you." I try and keep my voice calm, but it is shaking.

 _I should have stayed with her._

 _I shouldn't have been so hard on her._

 _She lost her child of course she would have a hard time coping with all of this._

"What's going on? Grey Report." Joy demanded, it looked like she was out of breath from running to the room.

"Where the hell is everybody?" I'm sure it had only been a couple of minutes, but it seemed like hours.

"There was an emergency. Most of the staff was called down to the Pitt. REPORT." I hadn't been demanded to report since I was an intern, and in this situation, I certainly wasn't thinking clearly.

"Um… Addison Montgomery Sloan. She tried to commit suicide. She's cold and clammy. Her pulse is weak and tacky. Airway is clear, but her breathing is slow and shallow. She removed the IV's. I did not replace them for fear that taking pressure off the wound would cause the bleeding to worsen. I think she might be going into shock." I say quickly.

"We're going to have to move her. I've got a gurney just outside. Did you check for fetal heart sounds?" Joy asks, and I freeze. Fuck. I didn't. Both of my hands are covered in blood. I am still kneeling beside her, applying pressure to her wrist. I could have checked at any time. The stethoscope felt uncomfortably heavy around my neck.

"She's bleeding badly. I was more concerned about blood loss." I admit, feeling extremely guilty. _'Please be alright Oakley_.' I say a silent prayer. It must be a true emergency downstairs because she was able to remove her IV's and her fetal monitor without anyone noticing. Even though Addison never wanted this baby, I don't think she'd be able to handle another loss.

"Keep pressure on her arm, I am going to lift her up, and onto the gurney."

"You can't life her, where's the response team?"

"There was a mass shooting nearby. Everyone who can help has been called to help." Joy says, with urgency. I don't know what I was worried about. She lifts Addison up like she weighs nothing and lays her gently down on the gurney.

"Addison, you're going to be OK." Joy says, and begins hooking her back up to various IV's, pumping her full of various medications. "You're going to be OK."

 **ADDISON's POV:**

My eyes open and I see Meredith standing over me, my arm propped up on the med cart as she slowly stitched it shut. A unit of blood and IV fluids are making their way into my veins. The baby's heart beats steadily in the background along with the whooshing every time she moves or kicks the monitors. I wish Meredith would just turn it off already. It is bad enough that I must feel her, I don't want to hear her too.

"Welcome back." She says, and I grimace. I don't speak for a while, and she continues to stitch. "Everyone else is responding to an emergency and so after Joy was satisfied that you're not going to die she left me to stitch you back up and monitor you." She informs me, I shrug and look away.

"I'm not sorry." I respond dully.

"What in the hell were you thinking?"

"I wasn't."

"Clearly." She purses her lips tightly and form a thin line. I can tell she's cross. Who wouldn't be? She finishes stitching my arm up and wraps it tightly in a white bandage.

"You should have left me. I didn't need your help."

"You could have died. Your _BABY_ could have died."

"That would have been a blessing. _Please_ just leave!"

"Unfortunately, I can't leave. I've been assigned to _baby-sit_ you since you are obviously incapable of taking care of yourself."

"Meredith…."

" _DON'T MEREDITH ME_!" She screams, and I stop. Momentarily speechless. "Did you ever even stop to think how your actions affect those around you? Even if YOU want to throw away your life, even if YOU think you have nothing to live for, those around you are still hurting. _MARK_ is hurting. Your _BABY_ is hurting. _WILLOW_ is hurting. _DEREK and I_ are hurting." Meredith is sitting on the bed now, so her presence so forceful that I have no choice but to make eye contact with her. She grabs my hands holding them tightly. " _YOU_ are my person. You don't get to do this."

"I didn't even have a choice." I exclaim, but I am crying so it's less effective than it could be. Oakley keeps moving and squirming, trying to get away from the fetal monitor making I cry harder. I begin to panic, suddenly feeling claustrophobic with every single kick. Meredith places a nasal cannula and turns on the oxygen flow.

"What did you mean?"

"I am a human incubator and I had no say."

"You've _always_ wanted children Addison."

"I know."

"What changed?"

"I never wanted _this_ one."

"You couldn't have said something sooner?"

"When? When do you think I should have fought Mark on that? When I was grieving the loss of our child? When he had me so drugged up that I still have months of time missing from my memory? Or should I have done it when I was in that coma?" I ask sarcastically.

"Well this isn't the way, so we're going to have to figure something else out. Maybe once the baby is born you'll be happier."

"Maybe." I say shrugging, but it seems hard to look forward to something that is so far away, hard to see that light at the end of the tunnel.

.

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 **Authors Note:**

Thank you for reading! What do you think? Next chapter will be Addison and Mark. 3 I feel like Addison very much feels her rights and her choices have been taken away, so I'm exploring that angle for a bit.


	13. Chapter 11

**MARKS POV:**

"Dr. Sloan, there's been an emergency. We need you to scrub out, **now**."

"What happened? Is it Addison? The baby?" I ask, but she doesn't respond.

"It might be best if we speak outside." The nurse, Emily, said carefully. I nod at her, annoyed and tell Kordeen the resident on the case to take over, while Emily and I leave.

"What's going on?" I demand as we were outside of the operating room.

"Meredith Grey sent me to find you. There's been an emergency with your wife."

"What happened?" I ask, trying to gage the seriousness of the situation.

"I don't think I'm-"

"WHAT HAPPENED?" I don't mean to shout, but it is a funny thing when you are so used to the constant frailness of someone with mental health concerns as demanding as Addison's. Forget fight or flight. Your body automatically panics, freezes, assumes the worst.

"I'm sorry Dr. Sloan. She tried to commit suicide." Emily murmured, and I push past her, running down the hallway without even properly scrubbing out. I look at my cell phone and see that Meredith had called and texted me 9-1-1-several times. I checked my pager. 9-1-1 Addison.

I burst into the room, and see her laying on the bed, her wrists restrained against the bed.

"Where the hell were you?" Meredith asks angrily.

"Emergency surgery. _WHAT HAPPENED_?"

"I'm so sorry Mark, I don't know…. I only left for a minute."

"You left her _alone_?!" My eyes fall on Addison, cold sweat pouring from my body. Her wrists are cuffed to the bed. "Restraints?" Adrenaline is surging through my veins, I can't just be grateful that she is OK. I can't get over the fact that Meredith allowed this to happen in the first place, anything she said just now would have been _'wrong'_.

"We're closely monitoring baby, and she has inflating compression socks on to avoid blood clots." She answers. Her voice robotic. "She'll be asleep for a little while, we had to give her a mild sedative."

"Is she OK though?" I am almost afraid to go to her. I am not able to think of anything more productive to say, unable to sort out the roller coaster of emotions. She looks so tiny and frail on the hospital bed, you'd think I'd be used to it by now, but seeing her makes my knees go weak, and not in a good way. I sink down on the chair next to Meredith.

"I don't know…she'll live if that's what you mean."

"What aren't you saying?"

"It's not my place."

"Just out with it Grey." He demanded. I move closer to Addison, but I am almost afraid to touch her, scared I might somehow hurt her.

"I think the wrong choice was made when it was decided to have Addison carry Oakley to term." She says quietly, though she looks like she instantly wishes she hadn't, knowing the alternative.

"She agreed to carry Oakley."

"But did she really have a choice?" Meredith argues, she takes Addison's hand, making small circle with her finger, and then gently tracing over the IV's.

"If she ended the pregnancy, she would have regretted it for the rest of her life." I say defensively. "We would have both spent the rest of our existence with the 'what if's.'. I check the monitors and relax a tiny bit when all appears normal.

"What we did was _wrong_ Mark, can't you see that? We allowed our grief for Heavenly to blind us to the fact that we basically used Addison as a human incubator for a child _she doesn't want_."

"Oakley would have _died_ Meredith."

"Is her life more valuable to you than your wife's? More valuable than the life of the woman who you call your _best_ friend?"

I swallow hard and can't answer. It's complicated. It's a baby, just one baby, so why do I care so much? The answer comes to me, maybe it's always been there.

"I am Oakley's _father_." I put a certain amount of emphasis on the word 'father' as if that makes my point clearer. I am her father. Of course, I would want her to survive.

"Yes, but you're _her_ husband." A sense of betrayal is in Meredith's tone. "We should have protected her, just keeping her alive isn't enough."

* * *

 **ADDISON's POV:**

I wake up to them arguing. Of course, they are arguing about me. I did this. I caused this to happen. I couldn't just be the happy, glowing pregnant person everyone wanted me to be. Not this time. I try to pretend I am still sleeping, thinking maybe they are too caught up in themselves to notice I've woken up, but Oakley flips in a way that is painful and I let out a gasp and attempt to move my hand to my stomach to soothe her, confused to find them restrained to the bed rails. _Great_. Now they're both looking at me. I give a sigh of discontent.

"I'm sorry Addison, we had to." Meredith says quietly.

"You didn't _have_ to do anything." I say, defeated letting my body go limp on the uncomfortable hospital bed. I avoid eye contact with both. "I'm just so tired of this…. All of this."

"Addison, I did what I thought was the better option, for our family, for you _and_ for Oakley." Mark says, coming closer to me, too close. Taking the blame off Meredith. Why can't they understand that I just want to be left alone?

"Better never means better for everyone, it always means worse for some." I say. My eyes are growing heavy though. The medications haven't fully worn off yet. I can still hear her. I can almost see her dancing around the hospital room. I close my eyes, blinking hard.

* * *

 ***Hallucination / FLASHBACK***

' _Mommy! Mommy! You're finally home! watch me twirl!'_ She is wearing her pink and purple Waltz of the sugar plum fairy costume. She is moving so fast, from here to there, dancing around the hospital room. It is dizzying to watch, but I can't bring myself to look away. I know this isn't real. It can't be real, just a side effect of the medications, of the exhaustion setting in, but what if… what if memories and reality were colliding?

 _I remember this day. It was a crisp cold day in December. Recital Night. I walked into the house to see Mark chasing after her as she twirled around the living room, holding a hairbrush, and her ballet bag in his hands, looking a little frazzled if we're honest. 'We need to get you ready little sugarplum, otherwise your waltz will have to wait until next year." Mark had reminded her gently, he was always gentle with her, even when she was testing his limits._

" _You want to play, don't you?" I ask her. She stopped spinning, crossed her arms on her chest and said 'yeah' with a little pout. I scoop Heavenly up and swing her around in the air, she laughs and wiggles. I throw her up and catch her making her "fly" before collapsing down on the couch with her, tickling her. "The problem is that it's time to get dressed, your friends and your teacher will miss you if you don't dance with them tonight." She looks thoughtful for a minute I can almost see the gears turning in her little three-year-old mind before she says, 'OK Mommy.' And lets me put her hair into the perfect little ballerina bun. I remember the warmth of that day, which is crazy considering how cold it was outside, and the terrible day I had the hospital. I had lost a mom and her twins in the OR right before coming home, and was almost late because after telling the family, I had to stop in the on-call room and cry. There is no good way to balance home life and work life, but these moments with Heavenly are my everything. SHE is my everything._

* * *

 **STILL ADDISON's POV:**

"Addison are you alright?" Meredith asks. Maybe I blacked out, or maybe I was just starring off into the distance, watching the baby's fetal monitor, but her voice catches my attention, and the everything comes into clearer focus. Mark is pacing the room, he looks like he doesn't know if he wants to scream at me or cry. He runs his fingers through his hair, a look of panic and distress as he sinks down onto the ground, just staring at me. Maybe if I say 'I'm sorry' he will feel better, hopeful but likely not the case. What I did was unspeakably cruel. There are no words.

"Why didn't you let someone know it had gotten _THIS_ bad?" He finally asks me, his voice cracking.

"How many times have you ignored me telling you I don't want this baby? That I don't want to be a mother? I'm _suffocating_ Mark." I try to explain it in a simple way that even he could understand, but that doesn't take away the complexity of this feeling.

"If Heavenly was alive would you have wanted Oakley?" He asks, and I flinch, a pang hitting my heart when he says her name. He was her father, but the name _'Heavenly'_ sounds so foreign coming from him after not speaking it for so long.

"That's not fair Mark."

"But somehow you think THIS is?" He asks gesturing to my arms in the restraints. He's always wanted a big family. That was our initial plan but loosing Heavenly changed everything for me.

"I am not the same person I was before." This isn't a good explanation. People heal from terrible circumstances. People recover and move on with their lives. So why can't I? "I'm 30 weeks. The baby is past viability. She has a 98% chance of survival. Please just take her and let me go."

"Why so you can kill yourself without guilt?" Mark asks, angrily.

"Mark!" Meredith scolds.

"What?! You _know_ that's what's going to end up happening the moment the baby is out."

"Maybe she'd recover faster if it wasn't for all the extra horm-" Meredith starts, before I cut them both off.

"I'M RIGHT HERE!" I scream as loud as I can. "Stop talking about me like I'm _NOT RIGHT HERE_." I run over the plan in my head. I could deliver the baby, get discharged from the hospital, and leave. To where? I don't know, but I know that I can't be here, The details would have to be worked out later.

"You're not strong enough to deliver Addison, you need more time."

"If she was in distress, or I went into labor on my own I'd be strong enough what's the difference?" I ask annoyed, but I know the difference. When you go into labor naturally it is nature taking its natural course. When an induction is done, or a c-section is preformed the risks of complications rise, especially if you are already high risk.

"You should have taken her when I was already on the operating table."

"The survival rate for a 25-week preemie is between 50-80% and the chance of a permanent disability is 15-25%. She wasn't in distress. Delivery would have been fatal, you were bleeding out Addison. You had to be prioritized. While you were in the medically induced coma you were both stable and doing well, so we made the decision to give you _both_ more time. " Meredith explains carefully, as if she is rounding.

"Yes, there are risks, but they are manageable, especially now that I am 30 weeks." I know I am talking nonsense though. I try to remove myself from the situation. What would I have done if a patient of mine was under similar circumstances?

"I have the medical power of attorney. You are _NOT_ putting our child at greater risk Addison." Mark interjects.

"I'll take you to court." I argue.

"No judge in their right mind would sign off on that."

"They don't have to. All I have to do is call my lawyer and file a Revocation of Power of Attorney." I was very clear in knowing all the terms when we got the power of attorney, that little bit of knowledge was coming back to me now.

"Can't do that with your arms cuffed now can you?"

"You're unlawfully detaining me. You cannot use restraints on a pregnant woman in her third trimester. It's inhumane."

"No. What's inhumane is trying to kill yourself, and our child."

We are both silent for a time. Meredith had busied herself checking the baby's papers, my vitals, anything to 'disappear' without leaving the room.

"I want a divorce."

"You don't mean that Addison." Mark says, stepping back from me, as if I had struck him.

"No. Mark. I do mean it. I want a divorce and I want never to see you again. This is not the fucking Handmaids Tale. I deserved to have a choice. My body my choice."

.

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.

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 **Authors Note:**

Thank you for everyone who is new to this story and for those continuing to read. Please review and let me know what you're thinking about as you're reading this. I love reading reviews and getting different viewpoints.

.

This story is going to the left of where I originally thought it would. So, I'm just going to go with it and see where it leads me.


	14. Chapter 12

Chapter 12:

 **ADDISON'S POV:**

"Addison, you're having mild contractions. I am going to have you walk around and change positions, you could have just been laying still too long. If they don't stop, I'll check you. "Joy says, putting down the ultrasound wand, and wiping the gel off my skin. "Are you in any pain?" She asks, and I shake my head 'No.".

"It's been two weeks Joy, really. Can we stop with the feeding tube and all the extra precautions already? I have been cleared by PSYCH twice. What else do you want from me?" I question. They had stopped the restraints, when I was cleared the first time, but that was only a small victory. I am still on one to one supervision. I am not even allowed to pee alone. I move as soon as the gel is cleared away. My back is aching from laying on my back, in one position for so long, with the weight of the baby pressing down on my spine.

"You lied to them." She countered impatiently.

"I didn't." I object. OK, really, _I did lie,_ but does she need to know that.

"The feeding tube is helping. You both look much healthier." She says, showing me the pictures, she had printed out from the ultrasound machine, and randomly giving me a ton of information, I am not interested in. I zone her out until she stops talking.

"As soon as she's born, she goes to Mark. I don't want to see her. I don't want to hold her. I don't want to hear her. She's Marks baby. _She's not mine._ " I remind her carefully.

"Addison are you sure that's what you want?"

"I am." I say, walking back and forth within the length of my feeding tube. I feel like a dog on a chain. "When she's born, just take her." My heart is breaking, but I know I do not love this child. I know I would do her more harm than good.

"Does he know that you're leaving?" She asks, "Does Meredith." She is watching me carefully, looking to me, and then to readout coming to the big machine from the portable monitor she had placed. The contractions were more noticeable now, but nothing terrible.

"No." I admit, "I haven't seen or spoken to him since I asked for a divorce." I hold onto the bed for support as Oakley move, kick, karate chop, double flips her way through my womb in a way that takes my breath away and causes a rush of fluids to hit the floor. I open my mouth in an 'o'. Momentarily shocked and unable to speak.

"You might want to make that confession sooner rather than later." Joy says, looking at the monitor readout again. Examining it closely.

"Huh why?" I ask stupidly when I can breathe again. I try to convince myself that it was just the baby moving, that brought on a false contraction that caused me to wet myself. How many times have I had patients who had done this very same thing? On the other hand, though why would I rather believe that I peed my pants than believe that I'm in labor?

"It was a real contraction." She told me wearily.

"It wasn't." I protest and she looks at me crossly.

"So you want me to believe that the monitor is faulty and you're not standing in a puddle of amniotic fluid right now?" She asks, her tone slightly amused. I must look a hot mess.

"It can't be today!" I beg her. "The cerclage must have failed. Please you have to stop this."

"It is too dangerous Addison. It would be more dangerous to stop her than to deliver her at this point." She looks at me sympathetically, and I don't recognize myself. Who is this person I have become? So needy. So dependent.

"Mark's not here." I am beginning to panic now. "Who is going to hold her? She is his baby!" I remind her again. I know at 32 weeks she will likely be sent straight to the NICU, anyway, but that doesn't matter. In my mind he should be here. He should hold her first.

"I'll find him. I think we still have some time Addison. I do need to check you now though and remove the stitches if the cerclage is still in." She helps me up onto the bed, and then pages Meredith and Mark. The gloves go on and I full blown scream, and then press my hands tightly to my mouth to muffle the sound when she checks, and more fluid gushes.

"Addison I'm so sorry. You're right and the cerclage failed. The stitches have worked their way free, likely due to the weight of the baby on them. You are 3 cm dilated and 50% effaced. The test is positive for amniotic fluid. It looks like you have contracted an infection as well."

"She's coming today?" I ask bitterly. Trying to think of something that she could do to stop her, but really there's nothing to do to stop it, only delay it.

"Yes". She confirms. "It was a risky procedure. The cerclage was placed later than recommended while you had several risk factors. We have always known it might fail. It should have been impossible, but it got you to 32 weeks Addison. That is an amazing accomplishment."

I just nod, completely un enthused about what I know is to come. She helps me to the bathroom to get cleaned up and tells me she is going to go find Mark. My nurse Abigail comes in while I am in the shower and changes the bed sheets, laying down a disposable pad to catch the fluids. Someone else comes in and cleans up the floor. Abigail helps me into a hospital down and gives me the steroid shot. She starts the IV antibiotics and takes several vials of blood.

"I'm sorry." I almost whimper. "I'm sorry you get stuck with me tonight." The contractions are coming closer now and she hooks me back up to the portable fetal monitor.

"Don't be. I've been on your team for 5 years. We've seen a lot worse than this haven't we? Besides you've had a hard year. There are just no words." I smiled slightly as she says something about coming back to check on me in a little while and leaves the room. For a moment though I panic. I haven't been alone in weeks. Were the restrictions lifted? What was I going to d- but then Meredith walked in the room.

"Where's Mark?" I asked her. "I need Mark."

"He was in surgery earlier, It's OK, Joy is looking for him, she just found me first." She says softly, trying to calm my crazy.

"Who's going to hold her?" My voice sounds strange. "I can't Meredith…. I just…. I can't."

"If Mark can't be here, I'll stay with Oakley until he can." She said, as if this is the most logical thing in the world.

"I don't want to see her."

"Ok."

"Not even for a second."

"Ok."

"I just want them to take her. I don't want to hear her crying." I am trying hard not to cry. I re position, laying on my side.

"Oh Addison." She gets up on the bed beside me and lays on her side facing me, touching her head to mine. "I'm so sorry this has happened to you. I know you're afraid. I wish I could have protected you from everything." She strokes my hair, pushing it away from my face.

"I know." I respond sadly. "I miss Mark, Meredith." I say, and she hugs me close to her. I start crying, unable to stop, another contraction comes which just makes me cry harder, and breathe faster. She tries calming me, but I just can't stop. The machines begin going off, and she places a nasal cannula delivering oxygen. Coaching me to breathe. I take several deep breaths, and eventually can calm myself down.

Joy had come in when the machines went off, and starts checking my vitals, the baby's stats, and everything all over again. Meredith helps her to position me on the bed and holds my hand tightly as Joy goes to examine me and her face goes sheet white.

"What's wrong?" Meredith asks, paying the attention that I was not.

"Addison you're bleeding, and I am holding the baby's hand. The umbilical cord has prolapsed. We're going to have to prep you for an emergency C- section."

"NO. You can't. You do not have my authorization to do this surgery. Where's Mark?"

"I'm sorry Addison, he's not coming, and fortunately for you it's not your authorization I need, because this baby needs to come out. Soon. We don't have time to debate this, without risking her life." She said, deciding at the last moment it was better to tell the truth.

"Did you tell him I'm in labor?"

"I did." Joy removed her hand, quickly booking an OR and calling Abigail to prep me.

"I need him…. I can't do this without him!" My heart is racing as I think of the surgery ahead. Going through every step in my mind one by one. I don't want to be in the OR alone.

"You have me." Meredith says quickly, squeezing my hand.

"I'm scared." I admit as the transfer team transfers me to the gurney to go to the OR.

"You're going to be fine Addie." Meredith holds my hand tightly, walking along side me, when we get to the OR she quickly scrubs in, and then sits beside me again.

The team transfers me to the operating table and the anesthesiologist gives the spinal, the drape is put up, and minutes from the time that Joy had spotted the bleeding she is making the first cut to remove the baby. With that first cut the baby's monitor starts going off, showing distress. There are a flurry of people giving me medicine, checking the monitors, etc.

"You can't do this to me. I need Mark. Where's Mark?" I all but scream at Joy irrationally, I can't move, but I am so cold. I am crying and they increase my oxygen. I am getting woozy. My blood pressure is dropping. I am injected with a round of different medications.

"You're doing fine Addison." Meredith says, she always did have a great poker face. "It's going to be OK." I am crying again, and Meredith squeezes my hand tightly, whispering things that don't make sense. Her words are spinning. Other people are talking….. spinning spinning. The words were coming rapidly, but nothing made sense.

' _Baby's out.'_

' _She's not breathing'_

' _She needs oxygen. Get her warmed up, start compressions'_

' _I can't get this bleeding to stop. Suction.'_

" _hang a unit of 0-'_

' _baby's still in distress.'_

' _sedate her now!'_

People are talking to me, in those spinning nonsense words, but I have lost to ability to hear them. The last thing I see is the mask going over my face and Meredith's hand gently caressing my cheek before everything goes black.

* * *

 ***IN RECOVERY ROOM***

* * *

"Can I go now?" I ask as soon as I am fully awake and can speak again.

"Don't you want to know what happened?" Meredith asks.

"Not really." On Mark's orders they were not allowing me to refuse medications, and the pain medication was making me tired ….. so tired.

"Where's Mark?"

"He's with Oakley in the NICU." She says, trying to keep her voice quiet, not sure how much she could say without upsetting me.

"Can I go now?" I ask again, and Meredith just looks at me sadly.

"Do you want to see her?" She asks me carefully. "You sacrificed a lot for -"

"I just want to go home." I respond, and pack my shit and leave, I add in my head, but not out loud. I notice the emptiness of my body for the first time. It finally felt like I could breathe again.

"You just had an emergency surgery with complications. You will need to stay in the hospital for monitoring at least 3 days, possibly 5." Joy's voice is callused when she pulls back the curtain surrounding my bed surrounding Meredith and I. "Mark has her. She's safe." She says…

"I don't want to-"

"I know you don't want to hear about the baby, but you need to hear about the operation, and your recovery." Joy looks over at Meredith who came closer to me, holding my hand. "I'm sorry Addison, there were complications during the operation you started hemorrhaging. We tried everything we could to stop the bleeding, but you went into shock and multi system organ failure we almost lost you. I had to do an emergent cesarean hysterectomy to stop the bleeding, you improved rapidly after it was removed, and I expect you'll make a full recovery."

" _Who_ authorized _that_?" Is all I can manage to say as this new information sinks in.

" _Mark_ authorized it." Meredith whispered.

"How? He wasn't even in-"

"He was watching from the scrub room. He came in when we had to sedate you. He didn't want you to know he was there. He didn't want to upset you."

"He had no right….." My voice cracks and I begin to cry. I could have been with Heavenly, and instead I am here. Missing a vital organ, but still here all the same.

"I'm _so sorry_ Addison. He told me to do _whatever_ it took to save you." Joy said. She is crying now, and I am crying we are both crying, and I am confused. Why is _she_ crying? She isn't the one who was just _violated_.

"He - Is - So - Fucking - Selfish!" I shout through the tears. "Just get out!" I exclaim to Joy, and thankfully she leaves without argument. I let my body fall back onto the bed pushing the morphine button until Meredith takes it from my hand when it reaches the max safe dose and I fade back into darkness.

* * *

When I wake up again, I am a normal recovery room and he is standing by the window in my room, like some sort of creeper, just starring at me. His eyes are red and puffy.

"What are you doing here? Just leave."

"Our daughter is beautiful."

"I don't want to know anything about her Mark."

"She is 3lbs 8oz. She is 15 and ¾ inches long. She has fiery red hair just like yours. Her eyes are blue. Fierce and strong."

"Mark. Please. STOP." I put my hands over my ears and curl up as tight as I can with my incision, trying hard, _so hard_ not to imagine this baby he is describing.

"She needs oxygen, and a feeding tube because her sucking reflex is under developed, but she is otherwise _healthy_ , Addison. Despite everything you've been through _she is healthy_. She's a fighter Addison, Sloan's are fighters."

"I SAID _STOP_!" I hate crying, but now I am crying _again_ , for what seems like the _millionth_ time today.

"Baby…" He says carefully, moving closer to me, reaching out to me.

"Don't _touch me_." I warn.

"Just listen to me."

"I will _hurt_ you." I say, looking around for something to throw at him. Of course, there is nothing.

"I never meant to hurt you." He says, and I can hear he is being honest, but I don't care.

"I still want a divorce." I say clearly. "You took away my right to choose what I wanted to do with my body, with the baby. _Then_ you took my reproductive freedom to ever have another child. _Out of spite_ because I never wanted this one that you're so desperately clinging to. Feeling sorry after the fact doesn't change what happened."

"Addison, you have to believe me, _I didn't_! You were circling the drain. You were in hypovolemic shock. You were in multi system organ failure. You would have died on that table if I didn't make that call. I was trying to keep you alive. FFS, Addison, I can't lose you too, don't you understand that?"

"If I died, I would have been with Heavenly. Heavenly needs me. I just want to be with-" I object, but he grabs me by the upper arms, shaking me hard. Squeezing much too tight, his face is so close to mine I can smell his salty tears falling down his cheeks.

"You have a _living_ child who _needs_ you. Oakley _needs_ you Addison." He lets me go, and I know already I am going to have bruises, but I deserve them. Just this once. My head is spinning, and I feel like I am going to be sick. She doesn't need me. I am not her mother. I can't be her mother. I will never put a child in a position to grow up like I did, with a mother who doesn't love her. What kind of monster can't bring herself to love her own child? I am doing her a service by leaving her somewhere _safe, by staying as far away from her as possible._ She is safe with him. He is her father and he loves her. It doesn't matter what he or anyone else says to me. I have already spent 32 weeks saying so much worse to myself.

"What are you so _afraid of_?!" He asks before giving me one final look of sadness and disgust and leaving, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

 **Authors note:**

Thank you for reading chapter 12 everyone! I was a little anxious with her still being pregnant like 12 chapters in and so surprise, we now have a baby who is healthy unlike my other story Breaking Free. This chapter has been in my head for a little while but didn't seem to fit with the original direction this story was taking, but I really like it now, it fits well with the new direction. I am also kind of liking Mark tormenting her with information about the baby. Like being completely oblivious to the fact that he is hurting her more by doing so. Also, them being a little witchy with each other is fun.

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She had so much milder reaction to what happened than I would have if I were in her shoes. I think she is very much feeling trapped though, and I know that's just a yucky feeling.

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Please review, suggestions/ ideas / etc. I love reading reviews! It helps motivate me to update sooner because I know people are reading :)


	15. Chapter 13

**Authors Note:**

THANK YOU so much to everyone who has read and reviewed this far! : )

* * *

 **Chapter 13:**

 **Addison's POV:**

* * *

"I know you're planning on leaving." Meredith says, leaning against the wall as I pack up my belongings from the room and throw them in my suitcase.

I am finally _free._ I have finally been _discharged._ I _never_ have to step foot in this hospital where Heavenly died again. The image of Heavenly dying as she comes off the life support haunts me and is engraved in my mind forever. I can't be in this place without thinking about her. This place that was once my heaven has now become a living hell.

"Of course, I'm leaving, I was _finally_ discharged." I say mocking confusion at her intent.

"That's not what I mean, and you know it. I saw the airplane ticket." Damnit. I'm caught.

"You went through my phone?!"

"Accidentally! Your phone buzzed and I saw the confirmation email in your notifications."

"You _read my email_?!"

"It's about the only way to find out what's going on with you anymore." Meredith said shrugging.

"I _don't_ want to talk about this Meredith. That's why I _haven't_ talked about this." I say, trying to avoid the topic all together. I am still sore from the surgeries. My movements are very much deliberate. Even so, I'm happy to be leaving.

"You _can't_ leave. It would _kill_ Mark." She objects.

"I have no reason to stay Meredith. Mark _hates me_ , and the baby-"

"Oakley." She injects. _As if I could have forgotten the parasites name._

"Uh huh. Oakley." _It feels so wrong for me to say her name, when I have spent the last 32 weeks wishing she'd just disappear._ "I have no attachment to her. She's not mine, Meredith. She's his. Heavenly was _mine_. She was my everything and now she's _dead_ because some psycho decided to shoot up a daycare. _This_ baby's not mine. She never was."

* * *

 **Meredith's POV:**

* * *

She is my best friend, I don't want to argue with her. I don't want to make her feel worse than I know she must feel already. I try to be sensitive, but honestly, sometimes I think I know her better than she knows herself.

' _This baby's not mine. She never was.'_

"So we're just going to pretend that I didn't witness you almost die giving birth to her a week ago?" Her eyes darken dangerously when I say this, and I know I shouldn't have, but I am starting to get frustrated with her. Should I just sit here and watch as she throws her life away?

"I was Mark's surrogate, Meredith. Incubating a child is complicated. The complications, well, they could have happened to anyone." She says sighing and sinking down onto the bed, littered with clothing she hadn't finished packing. Now it's my turn to sigh. I can see she's trying too hard to convince herself that leaving is the best choice.

"You are so much more than a surrogate Addison." I say gently. Sitting down next to her. "I know you're hurting but giving up custody of Oakley isn't going to change that."

"How did you-" She must have seen the lawyer's paperwork, giving up parental rights, giving full rights, to her father, Mark Sloan.

"There were two notifications, Come with me for just one-minute Addison." I beg her. If only she could see what I see every time I walk into the NICU maybe she wouldn't be so afraid. Her little girl is healthy, beautiful, and only need needs a very low flow oxygen and a feeding tube. She is a miracle. Not a plague to be avoided.

"I'm not going to the NICU." She insists. I wish I wasn't so tiny, I would drag her. I understand she needs her space, really, I do, but it' been a week. Not once has she seen or had any interaction whatsoever with Oakley. We see this often in surrogate mothers, but I am concerned for Addison. This isn't like her. Not when one of her children is involved.

"You've never even seen her; how do you know you don't have a connection?"

"Because I _carried_ her." She sounds frustrated, and I sit down next to her, just silent for a minute. I'd probably be the same way if roles were reversed. I might even believe HER if I didn't know the story of why she chose OB as her specialty.

* * *

 ***ADDISON's BACK STORY***

 **MEREDITH POV:**

* * *

When we were first year medical students Addison called me in the middle of the night, frantic, begging me to take her to the hospital. When I got to her off campus apartment she was doubled over in pain, crying hysterically and bleeding.

"I'm dying. Please- Please just take me to the hospital. Whatever you do don't call my mother for any reason." Her attempt at keeping things light, but how light can you keep things when you're convinced that you're dying?

Upon arrival to the hospital emergency room we discovered through urine sample that she was pregnant, through an exam that she in active labor (not dying). They did a quick portable ultrasound and discovered that the baby had no heartbeat and rushed her to the maternity ward. She had ZERO pregnancy symptoms. She didn't gain weight or have cravings, she was never sick, she couldn't feel the baby moving yet and she had her period the entire time. Pregnancy was the last thing on her list of possible diagnosis.

She delivered Michael Zachary Montgomery, sleeping, on May 25th at 2:35 AM, exactly 45 minutes after getting to the hospital. The nurses put a tiny little cap on his head and wrapped him in a receiving blanket. She held him, still in shock over the whole situation, but held him, talked to him, and cried.

It was that moment when she held her micro preemie in her arms only to have to let him go that she decided to choose OB as her specialty. She wanted to save the babies, even if she couldn't save her own. She was monumental in getting to push for an earlier age of viability. She knows now it wouldn't have helped Michael, but what about those born at 22 weeks? Or 23? Just a few days short of the 24-week age of viability. She wanted to do something that would make a difference in the lives of these babies. To honor the baby, she lost.

She never told anyone about Michael. She never even told Mark. Michael changed her though. She has always kept him so close to her heart. She regrets now not spending more time with him before she was discharged. She regrets not taking pictures, she regrets not memorizing every single bit of his features. She was young, and afraid, she didn't even know she was pregnant, but the life of this tiny baby boy affected hers greatly. She fell into a depression and took five months off from college, but when she came back she quickly up, and it was like she never left.

* * *

 **END ADDISON'S BACK STORY:**

* * *

"Addison, you've been pumping milk for her day and night since she was born." I pointed out. "That's not nothing." The entire mini fridge is full of those little 2oz bottles. She wants to remain distant and doesn't want Mark to know she's secretly supplying much of Oakley's nourishment, or helping in anyway. He think's the milk is coming from an anonymous milk donor. Addison has also been on who's milk comes in perfect, early, and in mass quantities. When Michael passed, her milk came in normally and she was able to donate over 6400 oz of breast milk to the NICU at the hospital where he was born. On the date they gave her as her due date she made her final donation and took measures to dry up her supply. She's pretty much always been a kickass.

"It's almost like she's looking for you Addison."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't even know if this is possible or if I am imagining it, but She looks so deeply into our eyes, it's like she's trying to steal our souls. She waits until we speak to her, as we've made it a habit of always visiting when we pass but she always starts crying when she realizes we are not you."

"That's not even humanly possible." She argues, looking at me strangely, as if she is doubting herself. "She's only 33 weeks, babies these young don't…"

"Oh, it's true, do you want proof?" She signs and leans against me.

"I want you to leave me alone. I want to get as far away from this city as possible. I don't want to be a mother Meredith. Why are you so insistent on pushing Mark's child on me?"

"Because she's your child _too_ and even if you don't want her, even if you never see her, Oakley deserves better than to be 'just another thing' that happened to Addison Adrienne Forbes Montgomery Sloan. She deserves to grow up knowing that her mom did everything in her power to get her on this earth safely and nearly died in the process. She needs to know her mom loves her because if she doesn't….." My voice cracks, and I am crying now, and the thought of Oakley growing up thinking Addison doesn't love her enough to even hold her once before she vanished. "Just… Just don't do that to your baby Addison. No child deserves that." She looks at me for a minute, as if considering this. She has her own mommy issues that are coming to play, fighting against her, convincing her she is a bad mom, hardening her heart.

"Fine." She says, and really, she looks like she wants to kill me. "But only for a minute." I nod and take my phone out of my pocket, flipping through the pictures and videos until I find just the one, I want.

"Are you ready?" I ask, and she nods her head, holding on tight to my arm for support. Before I give her a change to second guess herself or tell me to stop, **I click play**.

* * *

 **IPHONE VIDEO:**

* * *

Mark and I are standing over baby Oakley's incubator. She looks at me and I smile down at her, talking gently. Almost instantly she wrinkles up her face and begins to cry. The video zooms in on her face, and then out again as Mark tries to soothe her, but she cries, if possible, even harder.

'Can you believe this?' Mark asks as he pulls out his phone and opens a audio file of Addison singing "Deep in the Meadow." Within seconds Oakley stopped crying, was quiet and calm, just listening to her mother's voice.

"Addison must have sung to her." I say with a smile, remembering that song. It was the song that she always sung Heavenly as she put her to sleep at night. The most beautiful song of hope. The song of peaceful dreams. The song of safety and love.

* * *

 **END IPHONE VIDEO:**

* * *

"She's only been on this earth for _7 days_ , and her Daddy and Auntie are already torturing her." She said perhaps attempting a joke, but seeing the baby, and hearing her cry has caused a physical reaction I hadn't considered.

* * *

 **Addison's POV** :

* * *

"I don't want to see her." I say forcefully. Stupid milk. I move my hand to my chest in annoyance. My brain and heart are telling me she's not mine, but my body is going through all the aftermath of childbirth. It doesn't know that I've given away the baby. It just wants to make milk to nourish the baby I am supposed to have. I just can't. I can't let myself get attached. "She is better off without me messing her life up." I take the double pump from the bedside table and connect everything and then began expressing the milk, as if this is the most natural thing in the world. How many times had Meredith and I breastfed our babies together, or pumped in front of each other on those crazy first weeks when neither of the babies would sleep? How many times had she come over while I was pumping and cramming for exams after I lost Michael? Almost second nature.

"Seeing her once isn't going to screw her life up." Meredith promises. I think back to all the babies in the NICU that I had set with, for hours, for days, sometimes weeks. The ones that truly have nobody because their parents either died or abandoned them. Why is it easier for me to show compassion for a complete stranger's child than it is for my own?

"Can I really see her?" I find myself asking timidly. I used to run this wing. I had a staff of 120, I don't remember a single time where I have ever had to ask permission for anything, but now I am terrified to walk even 30 feet down the hall to see the child I incubated. _'She's not yours Addison. She belongs to Mark.'_ I tell myself repeatedly. _'Don't do this to yourself or to her.' 'Don't get attached.' 'You were her surrogate, nothing more.'_ I had spent my entire pregnancy telling myself these things. They were essential to 'getting through' it, and they worked, until I was fully able to grasp the consequences of my decisions and they didn't anymore.

"You can, you can even hold her, and feed her if you'd like. Mark gave very strict orders to the NICU staff. You are to have unlimited access to her."

"He did that?" I ask, confused "Why?" I thought I had made it very clear I do not want this baby.

"I guess he hoped you'd come to your senses." She says with a sad little smile. "He loves you both… so much." Deep inside I know that he was just doing everything in his power to keep me alive, but it still hurts all the same. I can't help but flinching when she says this. She notices and hugs me as tightly as she can without disrupting the pump. "You've been through a lot. It will take time Addison." She reminds me, her tone gentle. I finish pumping and label the bottles with Oakley's first and last name, her date of birth, and the date and time the milk was collected. Meredith looks at me, standing up and reaching her hand out to help me off the bed, as if she is begging me to come with her.

"Meredith I can't do this." I say, the tears are coming quickly as I finish adjusting my top.

"There's a difference between _can't_ and _won't_." She points out.

I give her a look of deepest loathing and take her hand, letting her lead me out of my hospital room, towards the NICU. My legs feel like Jello, my heart is pounding a million times a minute. How did I let myself get talked into this? When did I become so submissive? This is going to cause nothing but more pain for everyone involved. How can I trust myself with her when I couldn't even protect the other children? What if she dies too?

We stop just outside the NICU, the curtains are open, and we peer inside the window.

"Do you see the little one?" Meredith starts "Right there in the incubator with the rainbow quilt laying on top?" She turned to see if I was listening. "That's Oakley." There is a sense of pride in her tone. I press my hand to the glass, just watching her sleep. She's wearing a tiny outfit. It looks like something custom. The pants and little hat are made of a soft rainbow fabric. The tiny one size says _'After every storm there is a rainbow of hope, here I am.'_

"This was a mistake…. I need to-" My chest is tight reading her shirt. I feel like I can't breathe and squeeze Meredith's hand for support.

"I know it looks scary, but is fine Addison, she is healthy." Meredith says, talking to me like a friend, maybe even like a patient's family. Not at all like the double board-certified OB/GYN, subspecializing in maternal-fetal medicine/fetal surgery, a neonatal surgeon and a medical geneticist. That I spend over half of my life in college to become. I am thankful for that. Because right now I am just afraid.

"Only a feeding tube and oxygen." I observe. She is doing very well for a 33-week-old preemie.

"Would you like to hold her?" Meredith asks, and instantly I back up.

"What if I hurt her?"

"You're not going to hurt her Addison." She says confidently. She opens the door and I follow her, like a small child into the NICU. She helps me to put on a gown, I wash and sanitize my hands. I am standing there at the scrub sinks frozen until I feel her hand on the small of my back. Gently pushing me forward.

I try to open the bassinet, but my hands are trembling so hard that I can't stop. Meredith raises her eyebrows at me and helps me to the rocking chair. She ever so gently opens the bassinet and lifts Oakley up, wrapping her in a blanket so she would not lose her body temperature too quickly and places her in my arms, careful not to disrupt her tubes.

My heart is pounding in my ears and my body is stiff. I hold the tiny girl in my arms, unable to just relax. It's like holding a preemie for the first time all over again. I pinch my lips together, face crumpling in concentration trying not to cry _again_ as I study every inch of her little face. I gently remove her cap and look at her fiery red hair. She is starting to wake up now and looks at me, studying me for a minute, and then starts wailing. I jump when she starts to cry. The sound so foreign, so unexpected for something so loud to come out of someone so little. I just look at her for a minute. Honestly it shocks me. I have zero maternal instincts towards this child. When Heavenly cried I instantly knew what she needed. I had the maternal pull to move heaven and earth for her. Oakley feels more like a stranger. A patient at most. The love just isn't there, as I put her to my chest and patting her back gently as she cried.

"Meredith, she doesn't know me, she _obviously_ doesn't want-" I say, trying to hand her back to Meredith, but the same weird thing happened that happened in the video. When Oakley heard my voice, she lifted her head up to look at me, locking her blue eyes on mine, and I know it is just a reflex smile that all newborns have, but she _smiled_ at me as she settled again relaxing against my chest.

"Doesn't know you huh?" Meredith asks teasingly.

"Just stop." The emotions inside of me too big, too conflicting. I carefully unwrap the blanket keeping her warm, counting ten little fingers, and ten little toes.

"The funny thing about children is that they love their parents unconditionally."She watches as I swaddle her back up, bringing her back to my chest. She lays her head there for a while, almost as if she listening to my heartbeat.

"She's hungry." I say as dully a while later, as plain as if I were saying "The grass is green." I look down at the teeny little girl, who was turning her head from left to right, on my chest, rooting, leaving me uncomfortable all over again with this whole situation.

"She can take fluids by mouth now and they've adjusted her tube feeds to account for that change. They'll be able to remove the tube altogether as soon as she can maintain her weight." Meredith explained. I know all of this. I do, but it is so much different when it's your baby in the NICU bed.

"That's good." I murmur.

"You can nurse her if you'd like. Or I can get you a bottle." Meredith offered. She had placed the fresh milk in the NICU fridge for me when we first came in, plus there is a little bit of a stockpile here. I have been sending milk with Meredith. I look down at Oakley. The thing I thought of as nothing more than a parasite for the last 32 weeks. She looks so tiny, so frail, I catch her scent on the air and my milk lets down painfully. Thank God for whoever invented nursing pads. She smells so sweet, almost like roasted almonds, milk and sugar. That new baby smell. I look to Meredith hopelessly for help.

"I told you this was a mistake... I'm sorry Meredith, this is just _too_ much. _Too_ soon." She begins to whimper, and I panic as she roots more. The weight of this tiny baby feels like a truck against my pounding heart. My breathing speeds up and I break out into a cold sweat. I feel like I am going to throw up and I push Oakley back into Meredith's arms quickly getting up, because I can't imagine throwing up on her would be a good idea. I rush to the scrub room, where I throw up, repeatedly in the scrub sink. I look out the window when I finally stop throwing up and see Meredith sitting in the rocking chair, smiling down at Oakley and putting a bottle of expressed milk to her lips. Oakley latches on to the bottle straight away and begins suckling. It feels like my heart is being ripped in two. I rinse my mouth out and sink down to the ground, knees pulled to my chest, trying to breathe as the tears come. I spend so much time _crying_ these days. I just want it to stop, but now I am going to vomit again. I move back over to the sink, and don't hear the door to the scrub room opening….

"Oh Red…." Mark says sympathetically, holding my hair back. Mark's wraps his free arm around me. I smell his soap oddly this calms my stomach, but the tears don't stop. He pulls me back down onto the floor, and I melt into his arms too physically and emotionally exhausted to move. He rubs my back, and talks softly to me, as if the last 3 weeks didn't happen.

"I'm sorry." I whisper automatically the moment I can freely talk again.

"You need more time." He says.

"I do…" I respond. "I tried… I …" I can't get my words out properly. "She _is_ beautiful."

"She's a miracle."

Meredith came out to the scrub room shortly after and glances down at us sitting on the floor together.

"Sorry, I wanted to come makes sure you were OK, but she was hungry, and so I just went ahead and gave her the bottle of milk. Are you ok?" She asks sits on the floor next to us, kindly not commenting on me, resting my head on Mark's chest. I just look at her miserably. My throat burning from being sick.

"What happened in there?" Mark asked gently, I don't say anything, so Meredith speaks up.

"I pushed her to see Oakley and she wasn't ready."

"Hopefully it will just take time." He says, echoing what Meredith said in our conversation earlier. "Maybe once your home things will start to get better."

Meredith and I lock eyes, and then I look down, ashamed. Mark doesn't know about the plane ticket. He doesn't know that I was planning on leaving New York and never looking back.

' _He doesn't know?'_ Her eyes are screaming as she looks up.

' _Meredith please don't."_ Mine are begging.

It was just a quick exchange, but he picks up that something is wrong. Things like this happen when you've suddenly been put through a trauma. You become hyper aware of your surrounding, and everyone in it.

"What's going on here?" He asks, looking between us.

" _Nothing_ , It's nothing." I say automatically, as if that's not suspicious and Meredith gives me a dirty look that clearly states, _'Just tell him the truth.'_

"It doesn't seem like _nothing_." He points out.

"I bought an airplane ticket." I say moving my head just so so I could look up at him.

"You _what_?" He asks, but his voice is eerily calm.

"I need some _time_. I need to find out who I am again without all of this." I gesture over towards the NICU, but, meaning this hospital, this life.

"Honey…."

"No. You don't get to Honey me. Not anymore…" I say, wondering briefly why I am so hellbent to ruin everything all the time. Why can I not just be happy? He was being kind, showing compassion, and now I've ruined it.

"Just…. Addison…. _Please_ stay." He looks at me and I can see his pain, something deeper than I have noticed before, but I can't quite place it. "Please give _US_ time."

.

.

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

 **.**

Thank you for reading chapter 13 of In My Blood! I am honestly loving the Addison/ Meredith friendship right now. I think maybe Mark has been in grief counseling or something in the background. I felt it was more appropriate to extend her an olive branch of kindness than to fly of the handle in this Chapter. Do you think Addison will go back home or do you think Addison will stick to her guns and leave?

.

Please review! 😊 I love reading reviews. It makes my day to see that people are reading and enjoying the things that I am writing. Thank you!


	16. Chapter 14

In My Blood

Chapter 14:

Authors Note: This chapter is just several things that happened before Oakley was discharged from Hospital. So around 4ish weeks. Only the first (Addison coming home) and the last (Oakley coming home) really matter timeline wise. Everything else is just in between.

* * *

 **PART 1**

* * *

I am not sure what made me agree to do it, but after the disastrous visit to the NICU I let Mark bring me home. He carries my bags up the stairs of the brownstone for me, and I follow him, feeling more like a little lost puppy than the rich lady who owns this beautiful home. I walk in and everything is exactly how it was before I went to hospital. I can't figure it out. If everything is the same why does it feel so different?

"Do you want to relax? Maybe watch some TV?" Mark asks

"I don't know." I say, and he leads me into the Livingroom. They have me on a new medication, and although I've had increase mental clarity, and the fog of depression is lifting it makes my brain feel odd. Maybe I am just not used to it. Perhaps I'm just not used to the painful level of awareness it brings. I automatically gravitate to the window seat, overlooking the busy road outside. How many hours had I spent in this very place after Heavenly's death? He touches my shoulder gently, and I turn back around and our eyes lock.

"It's going to take some time to adjust." Mark says carefully. "I'll have someone come and sit with you, keep you company while I'm at work, I'll start looking for a nanny for Oakley. She should be able to come home soon. We need to go shopping and get a nursery started." A nanny. Fantastic. This is going to be a great situation to explain _. 'Hello? Yes, could you please come raise my child that I don't want because I love my dead child more?' Oh, and by the way I will probably either be sleeping all day or not home so really it will be your full responsibility to keep her alive. Thanks.'_ My instinct chimes in that he is telling me these things to cheer me up, but I am struggling with the fact that it is doing anything but. _What kind of mother doesn't love their own child?_ That same thought keeps coming up everytime I think of the beautiful little girl, and my absence of any motherly feelings towards her.

"I don't really want to be here."

"I know."

"I could stay close, I could get an apartment or….."

"This is your home Addison."

"It doesn't have to be." I say and then "I just can't believe you're replacing her…."

"What do you mean?"

"You're talking about shopping for a nursery and hiring a nanny and all these things, like you're already over her death and ready to move on with this new baby."

"I'm not replacing her Addison! I just don't have the luxury of being able to shut down everytime things get hard like you do." 'He said, but then he instantly feels bad. Her eyes are full of tears and he is looking at him like he just struck her. "I'm sorry" He says shaking his head. "Addison….. I didn't mean-"

"No. It's fine." I say, but really it's anything but, and I can tell he is reading my tone.

"Addison-" He says in the tone that clearly says, ' _you're being unreasonable.'_

"No! You don't get to Addison me! This year has been _pure hell_." The weight of the anxiety, depression and PTSD alone is crushing me, then once you add in all the medical complications…. He doesn't understand, and I don't have the words to tell him. I almost wish he would have kept me overly drugged, they say I was 'nearly dead' but wouldn't that be preferable to this?

"Mostly _self-inflicted_ hell." He couldn't stop himself, thinking of all the things I've done to hurt myself over the last year. Maybe if they had just allowed me to deal with my grief without putting me in such an overly medicated state to begin with I would have been able to cope better, maybe I would be less unsteady now but really isn't that like comparing apples and oranges at this point? We can't change the past.

"Fine Mark. You win." I say putting my hands up in surrender. It's not like me to give up this easily, but I'm just over it. I go to walk away but he grabs my wrist.

"Don't touch me!" I demand, but he holds tight, not tight enough to hurt, but to keep me there.

"I'm sorry Addison…. Really."

"Let Me Go." I say, shaking my head. "You have fault in this too." I pull away and lock myself in the downstairs bathroom. I turn on the shower and sit on the ground, clothes and all. Letting the ice-cold water splash against my skin, soaking every inch of me. I don't know how long it's been but after a while the tears come, and they won't stop. Mark is knocking on the door, but I ignore them, trying so hard to stop crying. He is talking, trying to get me to come out, but I am so numb. I can't move. This goes on for some time. I begin shivering from the cold, but I don't move. That would require too much effort. I hear him dialing a number on his cell phone and then a one-sided conversation.

' _Can you come over?'_

' _She's not adjusting well'_

' _uh huh the doors open, see you in a minute.'_

"What did you do?" I hear Meredith's voice, scolding Mark.

"Nothing"

"Obviously it was something.' She knocks on the door,

"Addison are you in there?"

"Of course, she's in there, where else would she be? Do you think I've been sitting outside this bathroom door for the last two hours for my health?"

"Mark you're making this worse, go away." She says, and her tone is so authoritative this I hear him getting up and leaving.

"You OK?" She asks, I know she is sitting with her back to the door.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I'm OK, I'm good." I say, but I can't stop the crying. I know she can hear it over the running shower water.

"Don't make me take the door knob off. I'll do it but just to warn you I'm really bad at home renovations and it's highly likely that the entire damn door would fall down." I remember the time that Willow and Heavenly accidentally got locked down in the Play room. We have a walkout basement. It connects to the main house, but the play room, which was essentially a soft play sensory gym heaven is in the other half of the basement, which doesn't have access to the walkout. We had to call the fire department. They tried ramming it, but when that didn't work they had to take it down with an ax. We still haven't replaced that door. The memory makes me cry harder. I try to hide my tears, but the sobbing makes it a wasted effort.

"You're not OK." She points out, as If I couldn't clearly see this myself.

"No." I whisper.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asks lightly.

"I wouldn't even know where to begin." I admit.

"At the beginning?" she suggests, and I smile a little.

"I'm just overwhelmed. _"_ I admit. I am not sure why I am admitting this to her right now, yes, she was 'is' I correct myself, my very best friend in this entire world,but what good will it do?

"Transitions can be really scary, and we haven't done our best job helping you transition."

"Yeah." I say.

"You went from being a mom to loosing your daughter to finding out you're pregnant, to lapsing into a crippling depression and anxiety, to 'waking up' from the overly medicated haze months later to find yourself still struggling with both of those things and while everyone else has had time to absorb the shock of Heavenly's death, and heal, you haven't really been able to properly grieve. Not to even mention all of the medical _complications_." She says the last word with only partial implication that they were made worse by me self-harming.

"I don't know what I am doing here. I don't want a baby Meredith."

"With all the trauma you've endured I don't really think anyone expected you to, but I am proud of you for overcoming everything you've been through to get her where she is."

* * *

 **PART 2:**

* * *

Do we really need all this _junk?_ " I ask Meredith annoyed. She had showed up to my brownstone chipper and with two coffees in her hands. She relieved the nurse Mark had hired to _'keep me company'_ and barley gave me time to get dressed and brush my hair and teeth before she was dragging me out of the house to Pottery Barn Kids. Looking at the size of her list I guess it was a good choice to bring her car, vs taking a taxi, which would have been faster. How would we have carried all this back in a taxi's small trunk?

"Well what are you going to do with her when she comes home? You just had a baby, babies need things." She points out. "And since you have nothing but an empty room-"

"I won't be doing anything with her Meredith. She is Mark's baby. He is the one who should be doing the shopping." I say this simply, but I know my voice is cold, unappreciative. The truth is, I don't know what I am going to do with her. Will Mark expect me to be the perfect mother to her that I was to Heavenly? I hate shopping. Heavenly's bedroom is Pottery Barn. Everything is still there, in her bedroom just opposite of the room that will become Oakley's room. On my therapist's advice Mark left her bedroom exactly as it was. He didn't take things out or give things away. When I began to _"wake up"_ after her death we just kept the door shut, as if not looking at it would make it less painful that it's there and she's not. Mark suggested that we could turn the bedroom into Oakley's room. Heavenly already had all the furniture a baby would need. Her dresser is really a changing table combo without the changing pad on top. Her twin bed is a convertible, that goes from a crib to a toddler bed to a twin bed. The rocking chair a dream for rocking babies to sleep. I just couldn't though. I'm not ready.

"Addison you promised on the way here that you'd try…." And then she see's me thinking hard, and her voice softens. "Are you OK? Do you need anything?"

"I'm Fine." I say quickly, shaking the thoughts out of my head, giving up a little. How do I keep getting dragged into situations I don't want to be in? When did I lose the ability to say no? We walk through the aisles, and somehow decided that her theme will be flowers. We find a bedding set, and get two because who has time in the middle of the night to wash bedding when there's been a blow out? Two mattress protectors, so we can double layer the crib (Mattress protector, sheet, mattress protector, sheet) for easy middle of the night bedding changes. Babies are gross.

"What are you so afraid of Addison?" She asks me. We are looking at wall hangings now. I randomly pick a few with the same flower theme, and then some with butterflies. "Come on Addie, you love shopping. Let's make this fun, especially since Mark gave me his card, and told me to buy you anything and everything you want today." I don't respond to this directly and instead we just make small talk as we choose a mattress, crib, a changing table dresser combo, and a rocker. I don't realize until we've already paid and arranged delivery to the brownstone later that day that I chose the exact same set that I had for Heavenly. We are quiet as I help her to load everything that's not being delivered into the car, but when we get in, and I've buckled I turn to Meredith.

"I am afraid I am going to hurt her."

"What do you mean? Do you want to hurt her?"

"No."

"Then what makes you think that you'll hurt her?"

"I already have, how do I know I won't again?" I say shrugging.

* * *

 **PART 3:**

* * *

"I'm sorry Addison, the Nanny called in with the flu, and Derek is removing an inoperable brain tumor from a woman's temporal lobe. I could have just stayed home, but I already told Evangeline I would come." Evangeline is the nurse that Mark hired to 'keep me company' while he was at work. I really think it is ridiculous.

"It's OK." I say, nodding hard, trying to convince myself more than anything else. "It's fine." I bend down to the little girl and smile. "Hi Willow!" I say trying to keep my voice light. "Do you want to come inside and color, or play?" Before Oakley was born, when I was keeping Willow frequently I bought toys, books and games, so she would have her own special things to play with while she was here.

She squeezes me hard and smiles 'Can I go play in the playroom?' She whispers.

"Sure, as long as it's OK with your Mommy."

"Pleaseeeeee?!" She begs, doing a little dance in front of her Mom. Excitement surging through her, she loves playing in the play room, with all of the climbing and swinging and ball pit it's the perfect place for imaginative play.

"Ok." Meredith agrees, "But you have to play carefully." She says, "No jumping off the roof of the soft play house like last time!"

"Yes Ma'am." Willow says dully, but then she's darting around us and running across the Livingroom, through the kitchen, and down the stairs to the playroom. I smile a little. Isn't that just like a five-year-old for you? I catch myself when I think of her age. She is older than Heavenly now.

I open the drawer in the kitchen and pull out the tablet, setting it up on the table and opening the application for our security system that allows for monitoring of all the rooms in the house, bringing up audio and video monitoring for the playroom, and making that the only room showing.

"We can watch her play." I say with a little smile, but it makes me sad, so I busy myself with getting us drinks from the fridge instead.

"She comes home next week." Meredith says. _Lord, not this again_ does everything have to center around talking about Oakley? Why can't we just have a normal conversation? "I went to visit her today and she has been able to completely come off the oxygen and the feeding tube."

"That's great." I say uninterestingly. Evangeline checks on me one last time. I assure her I'm fine and she grabs her bag and leaves, saying _'thank you Meredith'_ and _'see you tomorrow Mrs. Sloan.'_ I don't know how many times I've told her to call me ' _Addison_ ' but she still calls me _'Mrs. Sloan'_ and Mark _'Mr. Sloan.'_ Sometimes I wonder where he found her. Is this common in New York? Maybe, but I don't think so.

"Where is she off to today?" Meredith asks

"I don't know, but she's annoying me. Mark is paying her eight thousand five hundred dollars per _week_ to watch my every move. I can't even pee without her right outside the door. Do you know how many pairs of shoes and handbags I could have bought with that?"

"He's worried about you." Meredith responds

"He's barley even talking to me. All he wants to talk about is Oakley. 'Won't it be nice to finally have her home and how many cloth nappies do you think we're going to need for the newborn phase' and 'are you sure the car seat base is installed properly. 'and, and, and. I thought putting her room together would make him shut up but it never stops."

"I think he's just excited. Did he find a nanny?" She watching Willow climb on the climbing rope, push off from the wall hard, and fall shrieking with giggles into the ball pit.

"No. Everyone is 'too young' or 'too inexperienced.' I told him if he would just stop talking about it I would watch her, but now I feel bad because I think that's the decision he wanted me to make the entire time."

"Oh…" She says, looking at me oddly. "Do you think you're ready for that?"

"Its not like I could screw it up with nurse Perfect Pants hanging around."

She doesn't say anything for a few minutes, and we are just still, watching Willow playing on the screen. She is in the puppet theater now, playing with two little dolls. ' _Don't worry.'_ She says to the doll with the blonde hair that used to be Heavenly's _' I'll do your part for you._ ' And she begins to go through the little skit that she and heavenly used to play, one puppet on each hand, only now she's doing both roles. They made up that play when they were three. I'm surprised she even remembers it. I don't mean for it to happen, but I start to cry.

"I don't know if I'm ready," I admit. " But it's the right thing to do, so I'm going to try."

* * *

 **PART 4:**

* * *

"Today's the big day!" Mark says, gently shaking me awake. "We have about an hour before we have to be at the hospital."

I move my hand over my face, trying to block out the sunlight.

"You haven't gone yet?" I ask groggily.

"I'm waiting on you."

"I don't have to go do I?"

"Most mothers want to see their child graduate the NICU."

"I'm not her mother." I say. Biologically yes, but for all other purposes no. She's been in the NICU since she's been born, and I've only been to visit her once before I left the hospital. My phone is full of videos and pictures of her, but only because Mark won't stop sending them to me everytime he sees her, which is at least three times a day on the days he works. She's stopped crying for me and accepted him as her comfort. She doesn't really need me. He can afford to buy breastmilk from the milk bank.

"What have you told people?" I ask him.

"That you're too poorly to visit, they know you are recovering from major surgery."

"That's not a good excuse." I say, getting up and going to the closet to find something to wear. How many mothers have I operated on that were begging to see their newborns the moment they woke up from the sedation? How many mothers have I personally wheeled down the halls because they can't walk due to this or that but are dying to see their baby?

"We'll I thought you'd prefer that to 'my wife's gone completely psychotic.' "He says, I can tell he's joking, things have gotten a little better between us but not much. I frown at him. Going through my closet I am put off by the sheer amount of stuff. Why don't I have clothes like normal people wear? I wonder briefly why I can't wear a tee shirt and leggings, and then have to remind myself that I can't wear a tee shirt and leggings because I don't own a tee shirt and leggings. I was raised that It's better to be uncomfortable than to be caught dead wearing 'something as tacky as that' out in public. My mother's voice echoes in my head and I cringe.

"Just put on something and let's go. You're going to the hospital, nobody cares what you look like." He says, but then I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

"I look like death."

"Months of starving and self-harm will do that to a person." He says, "Now get dressed, come on Addison we're going to be late." I sigh, I can't wear a dress because then not only will I be cold, but I'll have to wear high heels. I finally decide on a floral top and jeans. I put on a random pair of flats and pull my hair back. I look in the mirror again, deciding this is probably as good as it's going to get.

"Ok then…." I say, trying to psyche myself out, and put that 'I'm fine' mask back on. "Let's go take our baby home." It takes a lot to say that 'our' baby, when even yesterday I was hellbent on having nothing to do with her. I take several deep breaths, trying to push down the anxiety that is threatening to show its face. I can do this. I can pretend everything is ok, and maybe eventually one day it will be.

By the time we get to the hospital I feel like I am going to pass out from anxiety. Mark squeezes my hand tightly as we walk up to the hospital pushing the travel system. He pulls me aside just before we go into the doors.

"Most of the hospital doesn't know what's really going on. The only people who know were those directly involved in your care, and the chief they've graciously signed non disclosures to prevent the rumor mill that normally accompanies this place."

I raise my eyebrows at him, not thinking him one to go through the trouble. Nobody told me in the months that I was stuck here that there was a non-disclosure agreement.

"The chief and I agreed that it would be best, to protect you- and now I just-" He pauses like he is struggling with something, he takes my face gently in his hands, searching my soul with his eyes. "I need to know that you're OK before we go in there. I know this has been hard on you."

"I'm fine." He hates it when I say that he gives me a look and I start to tear up.

"You're not fine, no one's fine Addison." He says.

"I am….. I swear I just…. we finally get to bring our baby home today." I wipe my eyes, smiling and really try to mean it.

"Are you sure?" He asks me, and I nod. He gives me a look of distrust but puts his arm around me protectively and we walk into the hospital, pushing the travel system to the elevator, and then to the NICU. My hands begin trembling on the handle of the stroller and he gives me a tight hug to try and calm me down. Mark disconnects the car seat from the stroller and carries it inside. I fold the stroller and sit it out of the way in the scrub room and we clean our hands. We don't have to wear the gowns since we are both clean, infection free, with no open wounds.

"I'm fine I'm just excited." I say, trying to keep my voice airy. I'm fine. This is fine. Everything is fine.

I follow Mark over to Oakley's bassinette and look down at the beautiful little girl we've created. One of the nurses, Sophia, is changing her diaper and putting her on a tiny little onesie with cats and ice cream printed on it.

"I'm glad you're feeling better Dr. Montgomery." One of the interns, Emily, a third year says cheerfully. "Your little girl has been an absolute pleasure to work with. She's the cutest little thing on this earth aren't you Oakley?" She coos at the tiny baby while Sophie finishes dressing her and moves back to get everything she is going home with ready.

"Do you know when you're coming back to work yet? Joy is driving everyone insane." She informs me.

"A year, maybe more." I say as I lift Oakley up, holding her gently, so gently.. smiling down at her while I'm talking. "I want to spend every moment I can with this little sweetie before I have to come back." I am going to say more, but Mark comes up behind me.

'Did you miss Mommy? Mommy missed you, yes I did. Your daddy sent me lots of pictures of you and videos…..you've grown up so much." I Tell her in a sing song voice.

"She's all signed out are you ready to go love?" He asks, looking over my shoulder at Oakley, and smiling that goofy smile down at Oakley, who was unphased by any of this in the slightest and had fallen asleep in my arms.

"She really is perfect isn't she?" I observe.

I say goodbye to everyone as I put her into her car seat, buckling her so that the chest clip and straps are just so. I tuck the little kitty blanket that matches her outfit around her, so she doesn't get a chill I take her bag from Mark and he lifts her car seat.

Mark attaches the car seat to the stroller base, and we make our way back out to our car together, chatting almost cordially as we admire the beautiful little life we made.

No one can tell what the future will bring, but for now, for now I'm going to fake it til I make it and hope for the best.

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

Thank you for all the kind views on the last chapter of In My Blood! I am having a lot of fun writing this and the other stories I have had the opportunity to update this winter break. What do we think about Addison's sudden change of heart? Please comment and review let me know what you think!


	17. Chapter 15

**In My Blood**

 **Chapter 15:**

* * *

"Oh my God please stop crying!" I ask, no beg the tiny red baby. Everyone in the NICU loved her, said that she was an absolute joy. I however beg to differ. She had been screaming nonstop like this from the moment we left the hospital. It's been close to two months since we left the hospital, three months since she's been born, and this hell is our existence now. We had taken her back to the doctor's office for all of her routine checkups and then some. Her pediatrician insisted that she was fine, and just colicky when all of the tests confirmed that she is perfectly healthy. No reflux, no genetic conditions, no allergies or other conflations. I had put her in her swing in a desperate attempt to calm her while I warm her a bottle of expressed milk. It was recommended that we switch to a hypoallergenic formula instead of breast milk, to help with the symptoms, but when the formula only made the screaming worse to the point of vomiting and near passing out, I switched her back to nursing and feeding with a bottle.

I pick her up again, gently bouncing her, and when she simmers slightly I latch her, thinking, well maybe she's hungry, but she fusses, pulling herself away from the milk flow. I try again, and she wants nothing to do with nursing. I try the bottle, and she takes a few drinks, and then shakes her head again, coughing, and screaming. I have no idea how we've survived this long. Frustrated I give her a pacifier (which she promptly spits out).

"I love you but you're really frustrating me right now." I say, and she just looks at me and screams more. Finally, I give up. I change her diaper, and put her in a clean sleeper, checking my watch, praying that Mark gets home soon. I offer her the pacifier again, which she refuses. I carry her up the stairs, rock and soothe rock and soothe in the rocking chair. When she still does not calm down, and I make sure that she is safe, lay her in her crib swaddled up nice and snug, and then put on my earphones, taking my phone and turning the music up as loud as it will go. Listening to an upbeat playlist from a popular medical drama. Not hearing her screaming… it's selfish…. But as long as I know she is safe, and not needing anything putting her in a safe place, and not hearing her scream…. It helps keep me from going completely insane and slitting my wrists. I haven't had to do it often, but the times I have… it's helped. My brain cannot handle the constant high-pitched wails. It is like fingernails on a chalkboard, all the time. When your child is crying, inconsolable for days and weeks on end…. that paired with the lack of sleep… It does something weird to your brain. I sit in the rocking chair, watching her, glancing up every few seconds to make sure she's still fine, but multitasking, reading the American Journal of Obstetrics and Gynecology on my phone.

"Addison?" Mark calls, coming in the door downstairs, but I don't hear him. He comes upstairs, and yanks the headphones from my ears, and the phone from my hand, throwing it so hard against the wall that it shatters.

"What did you do _that_ for?" I demand.

"Do you not hear her?" He asks, "Is this how you take care of her while I'm at work all day?" He picks up the screaming baby, and holds her to him, gently talking to her and bouncing her. Within what feels like seconds she has stopped her crying and fallen asleep in his arms.

"She screams from the time she wakes up to the time she goes to sleep _Mark_ , there's no soothing her. She is taken care of yes, but there is no soothing her. She doesn't want to eat, or to be held. She doesn't want to be in the swing or be rocked. She has a clean diaper, and clean snuggly clothes. Her baby music is playing. Its 8pm. It's time for her to be swaddled for bed in her crib."

"You're making way too big a deal out of this." He says, bouncing her in her sleep, and continuing to coo at her in between shooting me dirty looks.

"Who broke whose phone? There is something wrong with her Mark. She's not normal."

"No Addison, _You're_ not normal. What kind of a mother doesn't even love her own child enough to soothe her when she's crying so hard she can barely breathe?" He asks, looking down at Oakley like she's the most beautiful precious thing in the world, like I had not just spent the last 14 hours, without a single break listening to her scream.

"If that's really what you think than you should have let me leave when I wanted to." I shoot back. Anything would be better than this hell.

"Your negative mood wears off on her. You're mad she's not Heavenly and she can feel that resentment."

"She's 3 months old Mark, for fuck sake." I have to give him some credit, it is true there are some studies that show if the parents are upset the baby can feel that, and will become upset as well, but I have not been like that when I am with her most of the time, and he knows that. I have been forcing myself to be loving and affectionate. I feed her, sing to her, play with her. I give her baths and rock her. I tell her stories. Some days are harder than others, especially on the days when he's late coming home, but I have shown an effort 98% of the time, honestly It makes no difference, but I do it anyway. Today was just a hard day. People can have bad days. " _DO NOT_ give her an excuse to need years of therapy."

"Oh, I don't have to, you've already done that."

I grab my shattered phone from the floor, and don't even grab my jacket from the bedroom before walking down the stairs, and without even grabbing my purse, or my keys out the door, slamming it hard behind me, I hear Oakley begin screaming again as I walk down the street, not sure where I'm going, but I end up at Meredith's brownstone without any real clue how I got there. Derek lets me in and leads me to the kitchen I sit down at the table, resting my head in my hands.

"Meredith is putting Willow to bed, I'll let her know you're here." He says, before leaving.

"Addison what happened?" Meredith asked, gently squeezing my shoulder a few minutes later. I guess Willow must have already been mostly asleep.

"I don't know…" I say, "It was a night, like any other night." I say before I completely break down. "Can I sleep here tonight? She cries all the time and he blame me and…. I forgot my bag so the only other option would be sleeping on a bench in Central Park, but I'll do it if…" I am crying too hard for logical speech now. She pulls me to her, and gently kisses me on the top of the head.

"Stay here, we'll figure this out together."

I wake up in the morning and I don't know why I am filled with such dread, and then, when I open my eyes and remember where I am everything comes back to me.

"Are you OK?" Meredith asks, knocking on the door to the guest bedroom, and then coming in.

"I don't know." I admit. "Do I look OK?"

"It's Saturday, you don't have to go home if you don't want to." She says, giving me an out. "Marks called my phone one hundred and fifty-six times since last night and Derek's phone at least double that."

"And he accused ME of ignoring the baby." I say, rolling my eyes. "Why did you want me to stay?" I ask Meredith, not fully woken up yet, but meaning staying in New York, raising the baby, vs leaving her with Mark where she is safe and moving on with my life.

"We hoped things would be different." She says, "We hoped you'd bond with Oakley and things would begin to fall back in line for you. We didn't mean to make it worse."

"She is a spawn of Satan himself."

"I know that's how you feel." Meredith agrees, pacifyingly.

"She's better off without me." I whisper this, I don't want it to be true, but it feels so real. All the effort I've put in to trying to make sure she feels loved and wanted and accepted, has backfired. She hates me. I could honestly right now assure that she is safe and then walk away without even looking back. If Mark thinks he can do things better by her he needs to do them, but if I recall correctly _he_ is the one who begged _me_ to stay. It certainly wasn't my first choice.

"No one is better off without _you_ Addison." Meredith says, flopping herself down on the bed beside me. "Maybe you both just need more time."

"I don't want to have more time." I say, not even able to think of the level of noise I am going to go home to this afternoon. "Maybe I'm just not cut out to be a mom."

"You were a fantastic mom to Heavenly." She points out, and I frown, wondering if this was true. I was an _adequate_ mom to Heavenly perhaps, but I wasn't a good mom. If I was a good mom I would have stayed home with her, she never would have gone to daycare, she never would have gotten shot. A sickening feeling takes over then, as I realize if Heavenly hadn't been there to protect her Willow would have been the one who died. Even I am not heartless enough to wish that things had played out that way. I love Willow, I don't have the best way of showing it, but I love her. Even though Heavenly was my biological child I would have never been able to choose between them. I wish there had been a way to save them both. Mark wanted to enroll Oakley in the hospital daycare where Heavenly and Willow attended now that more security measures are in place. I nearly had a full-blown collapse when he told me that. I don't understand how he could be so stupid to enroll Oakley in the same daycare where Heavenly died? Sure, it was more convenient, but how could you go to work everyday knowing that your baby is playing in the same place her big sister was murdered?

"I want to die because I can't be with Heavenly. Heavenly was my child. This screaming little thing that has taken over my house and my life is not mine." I say but get up and get my purse. "I have to go home." I say. "He is never home to deal with her screaming, and if I'm not home…." I don't even know what I am thinking, exhaustion is taking too much of a toll.

"Are you safe to go home though?" Meredith asks, and I just look at her oddly.

"Yes…." I respond. Of course, I am safe. I am always safe.

"You're not going to hurt yourself, or anyone else?" Meredith asks, and I know it is something that she has to ask. She is my friend first, but she is still a doctor.

"Take a recent course in Psychology did you?" I ask her teasingly and then "I'm not going to do anything; you know me Meredith."

"I just want you to be safe. I love you.." She says, and I can tell she means it, I give her a tight hug before leaving. "I promise. I'm fine."


End file.
